Unbreakable
by Angler11235
Summary: Magic is a fickle thing, and the slightest miscalculation can have any number of unintended results. Harry Potter is the victim of one of these miscalculations, and the consequences will be farther reaching than anyone could have predicted. ON HIATUS as of 1/16/2019.
1. Chapter 1

With a soft pop, an old man appeared between two buildings. After a moment observing the scene in the square before him, he quickly strode out of the alley and turned down a quiet lane. Upon reaching the end, he turned into an abandoned lot and vanished.

As Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore stepped across the boundary of the Fidelius wardline surrounding the Potter's house, he nearly fell to his knees after seeing the destruction before him. The stone path leading up to the front door was torn up, with parts of it transfigured into spears, animals (now dead), and barricades. The front door itself had been blown inwards with incredible force, and was currently embedded in the wall behind it, with the runic schemes carved on it still flickering as they struggled in vain to repair the damage. The furniture in the sitting room was almost unrecognizable, with some parts burnt to ash and others violently torn apart.

As bad as the ground level appeared, it failed to hold a candle to the state of the second floor. A running battle had evidently taken place up the staircase from the first floor and along the length of the second floor. There was spell damage covering the walls, ceiling, and floor, from scorch marks to acid burns. Entire sections of the wall were blown off the side of the house and strewn around the yard. At the northernmost end of the house, the roof, walls, and even parts of the floor had been completely vaporized, leaving it open to the elements.

After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Albus stepped past the wrecked gate before him and approached the sobbing figure hunched near the front door. Even on his knees, the top of Albus's head only reached the shoulders of the massive man. Leaning forward with tears in his eyes, Albus caught a glimpse of black hair and pale skin amidst the rough brown hide of the groundskeeper's coat.

"Rubeus… how did you get him out?" queried Albus.

"Wasn' me," Hagrid mumbled. "Sirius handed 'im to me after I got here, said he had somethin' to take care of. Told me to watch out for 'arry 'til he got back."

"Come, my friend, let's bring young Harry back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey will be able to look after him until we learn what has happened here tonight."

"'ere, Professor, you take 'arry. Sirius told me to watch 'is bike 'til he got back," Hagrid said, handing the baby to the Headmaster.

"Very well, Rubeus," said Albus as he collected Harry in his arms. "I will meet you back at the castle in the infirmary."

Hagrid slowly walked to the bike, took one last glance at the ruined house, and roared off into the early morning light. Albus looked down at the infant in his arms and pulled the blanket away from the child's face. An intense, angry scar stared at him from above the vivid green eyes that reminded him so much of one of his former students. With a last sad look at the derelict home before him, Albus turned to exit the property. He stepped across the ward boundary, twisted, and disappeared.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: This disclaimer applies to this entire story. Any characters, locations, ideas, or anything else that is recognizable from JK Rowling's Harry Potter books are her property. Original characters, locations, or ideas are mine. When I draw inspiration from outside sources, I will explicitly note the original source in an author's note in that particular chapter. If you notice I have not given credit where it is due, please notify me and I will fix the oversight.**

 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Update schedule will likely be sporadic depending on school. Reviews are appreciated, and I will try to address specific concerns in future author's notes.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Poppy!"

Madam Pomfrey, head (and only) nurse at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rushed out of her office towards her boss, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. As she approached, she glanced around searching for her new patient. The Headmaster never called her to the main infirmary unless there was an emergency, instead usually going directly to her office. Not seeing a student with the Headmaster, she gave him a quizzical look as she came closer.

"Poppy, this is Harry Potter," Dumbledore said, unwrapping the blanket from the child's face and turning him slightly so the matron could see. She let out a light gasp, and quickly took him from the arms of the aging Headmaster and carried him to the nearest bed.

"What happened?" she asked as she performed a battery of standard scanning spells on the child.

"The Potters were attacked last night," Dumbledore said in a solemn tone. "Young Harry is the only survivor."

Pomfrey's lightning fast wandwork faltered for a moment as the information sank in. "You mean… James and Lily… they're gone?"

"I'm afraid so. Can you watch over Harry for a while? I need to return to Godric's Hollow and see what else I can ascertain from the house."

"Of course, Headmaster. He will be quite comfortable here, I assure you."

"Excellent. By the way, Rubeus will likely arrive soon to see how he is doing. I assume you will keep an eye on them both, and keep them out of mischief?"

"Don't worry, Headmaster. Everything will be fine, I promise," Pomfrey said, as she summoned one of the few bottles of formula she kept in the hospital wing.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore appeared, once again, in Godric's Hollow. He quickly made the walk to the Potter's home, and paused as he realized it was once again visible. The Fidelius must have collapsed due to the large amounts of dark magic released inside its boundaries. Realizing that the Aurors would arrive soon, he quickly strode into the house. He hesitated for a moment as he noticed James' body lying behind a destroyed table. Dumbledore gathered his thoughts once more and walked up the stairs and down the hallway towards the destroyed nursery.

As he walked in, he immediately noticed two things: the body of Lily Potter, crumpled in front of a crib, and what appeared to be a pile of ash with a pale wand on the floor beside it. Dumbledore removed his wand and began casting identifying spells over the pile of ash. With surprise, he found them to be human remains, and he had quickly recognized the wand as that of Tom Riddle.

 _Could a mere child really have somehow defeated Tom?_ he thought. _What kind of magic could have accomplished this?_

A series of _crack_ 's suddenly sounded from outside, followed by some muted shouts of shock, which were followed by sharp orders. The Aurors had arrived. Dumbledore exited the building and walked towards the Aurors, who immediately relaxed upon seeing who it was.

"Headmaster Dumbledore. What has happened here?" asked the lead Auror. "We received word that a damaged house suddenly appeared in Godric's Hollow. Is this not the residence of the Potter family?"

"I'm afraid Lord Voldemort attacked the Potter's last night. Their son, Harry, is the only survivor," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Aurors, spread out. Document _everything_ , even if it seems unimportant. Headmaster, I am Captain Oscar Dawson. Can you tell me anything else?" Dumbledore and the Auror moved away from the squad as they began to move through the rubble.

"From what I could tell, it seems that Voldemort was vanquished last night. I found his remains and his wand in the nursery upstairs. I have already taken young Harry to the Hogwarts infirmary to make sure he was, in fact, unharmed," Dumbledore began.

" _What?_ You-Know-Who is gone? Headmaster, you must be joking. I have heard that Mr. and Mrs. Potter were formidable duelers, but I doubt even they could take down You-Know-Who," Dawson spoke in shock.

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me. It seems to me that Harry was the one who defeated him, though I admit I am unable to discern how." Dumbledore replied.

"Grimes! Get over here!" Dawson shouted to his subordinates. "Headmaster, I'm afraid I must ask you to go with Cadet Grimes here and give an official statement. We need to finish documenting the scene, then we will take the Potters' remains to the morgue."

A slightly overweight Auror stumbled over half of a dining table as he approached. "Yes, Captain, what did you need?"

"Cadet, I need you to take Headmaster Dumbledore to the office and get his statement about what happened here. Drop him off in the interview rooms, alert Madam Bones that there was an attack here, and get back right away. Got it?" asked Dawson.

"Yes, sir. Right this way Headmaster. I'll meet you at the security station in the Atrium, alright?" Grimes said.

"Of course, Mr. Grimes. See you in a moment." With a twist and a pop, Albus Dumbledore was gone.

* * *

Late that night, Albus Dumbledore walked into the entrance hall of Hogwarts. Almost immediately, he was confronted by Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus, what happened last night? I brought one of my students to the hospital wing after a failed switching spell and Harry Potter was in there! Where are Lily and James? What has happened?" McGonagall queried.

"Minerva, I'm afraid Lord Voldemort attacked the Potter's home last night. Lily and James… were both killed. Harry is the only surviving Potter."

McGonagall faltered in her walk. "Wh-what? Lily and James are dead? I spoke to them only three days ago… why did he target them?"

"Alas, we may never know. It appears that somehow, Voldemort was destroyed. I found his remains and his wand in the Potter's nursery. I know this is a shock, my dear, but right now I need your help. You see, word has already gotten out to the Wizengamot that Harry is now an orphan, and I'm afraid that some… less savory people may attempt to get their hands on him. It is horrible to imagine, but I suspect several of those trying to gain custody over him are, in fact, unmarked Death Eaters. We must protect him. Please, Minerva, you must find Petunia, Lily's sister. As family, if we can place Harry with her then he cannot be adopted by anyone else."

McGonagall looked shocked. "Petunia Evans? Headmaster, that woman hates everything about us. There is no way she will want to raise a wizard. Please, Albus find someone else."

"I'm afraid this is our only recourse, my friend. To do otherwise puts Harry's life at risk. Please, Minerva, at least find her, then we can decide on a course of action. Time is of the essence." Dumbledore urged.

"Very well. We will be discussing this later, though, Albus."

"Of course, of course. Thank you. Send me a patronus once you have found them and I will join you." Dumbledore said. McGonagall spun on her heel and moved quickly towards her office to use the Floo. Dumbledore turned to the grand staircase and moved towards the hospital wing.


	3. Chapter 3

Albus Dumbledore peered down at Harry Potter over his half-moon spectacles. The angry red scar above the child's eyes had not seemed to heal in the slightest, even though it had been several days. It repelled any attempt by Madam Pomfrey or Dumbledore to heal it, so he had begun to suspect that it still carried a taint of dark magic within it. However, the child seemed healthy, if confused at the disappearance of his parents, so Dumbledore was not overly concerned with it. In all likelihood, the foreign magic contained within would dissipate over time and eventually allow the scar to heal.

Today, Dumbledore would bring Harry to the Dursley household. From McGonagall's reports, the Dursleys were fairly normal for a Muggle family. They appeared to be relatively well-off, and so they should not have an issue supporting one more child. While Dumbledore knew of Petunia's distaste for all things magical, he believed that enough time had passed that she would accept her sister's son as her own. However, even if he believed they would accept him for who he was, it didn't mean he wanted Harry's magical abilities to be showcased. In a Muggle neighborhood, that would cause far too much trouble.

Checking to make sure Madam Pomfrey was busy, Dumbledore withdrew his wand from his sleeve and began waving it in complex patterns above the child's head, all while mumbling an ancient spell under his breath. The spell was designed to limit how much magic a child would demonstrate. A child's core could not be placed under a block, since this would prevent any magic from escaping their core and would dramatically stunt their magical growth. Blocks could only be used harmlessly on magically mature adults. Instead, this spell would simply make any outbursts of accidental magic less obvious to those around him.

The spell had three parts. The first simply prevented his magic from moving beyond his skin. This would prevent Harry from levitating objects or changing someone else's hair color. The second part was more complex, and would encourage the growth of magical channels within him, even though the magic was not being released in the usual manner. Finally, the third piece would cause any excess magic within Harry to flow into the earth and dissipate. This would allow Harry's core to produce and use magic at a normal rate. The spell would naturally unravel on the day of the child's eleventh birthday.

Dumbledore finished applying the charm to the child, and turned to gather his cloak. As his back was turned, the tiny piece of Voldemort's magic that was lodged inside Harry inspected the newly applied charm. It lacked sentience, but knew that the child it was inhabiting was the enemy of its creator, and therefore should be harmed if possible. With the entirety of the magic available to it, this parasite warped the third part of the charm that Dumbledore applied, dramatically decreasing Harry's ability to shunt excess magical energy into the earth. However, the magic it expended to do this included the magic keeping it alive, and the remainder of Voldemort's magic began to be absorbed into Harry's core.

Dumbledore, having finally collected his belongings and testing his Deluminator, picked up the child, wrapped him in a blanket, and carried him down to the groundskeeper's hut.

"Rubeus," said Dumbledore, "I must make a quick stop before I head to the Dursley residence. Would you mind taking Sirius' bike and bringing Harry to Surrey?"

"Not a problem, Headmaster," replied the half-giant. He took the child, tucked him into an inside pocket of his massive coat, and went around his hut to get the motorcycle.

* * *

Dumbledore apparated into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic and immediately went to the security desk. After confirming his identity, he took one of the lifts to the administrative suite of the Wizengamot. Walking towards the census office, he was pleased to find the man he was looking for standing outside.

"Samuel, so good to see you again," Dumbledore said as he approached.

"Of course, Headmaster, I only wish it were under better circumstances," replied Samuel Gibbons. Gibbons had graduated Hogwarts seven years ago, and had briefly pursued a mastery in Transfiguration under Dumbledore's tutelage before finding a position at the Ministry. "What can I help you with, sir?"

"As I am sure you've heard, Harry Potter survived the attack on his family on Halloween. However, there are some people who would rather harm him than help, and as an orphan he could be adopted by anybody with even a slight blood relation. I need you to officially submit this form declaring Harry's Muggle aunt as his guardian before anybody can begin the adoption process," Dumbledore said quietly, handing a document to the man.

"You do know I could get fired if anybody finds out that I did this, right?" Gibbons asked, even as he took the offered parchment.

"You know I would not ask unless it was of the utmost importance," Dumbledore replied. Gibbons glanced down at the paper, considering it, before facing Dumbledore again.

"Very well. I'll make sure it gets processed before morning."

"Thank you Samuel. I appreciate this."

"Not to worry, sir. Have a good evening," said Gibbons, before turning and entering the offices behind him.

* * *

"Fancy seeing you here, Minerva," Dumbledore said to the cat seated on the brick wall. The cat gave him a piercing glare before jumping to the ground and morphing into the shape of Minerva McGonagall.

"Very funny. Albus, are you sure there is no other way to protect him? These… people… are some of the worst I have seen, and I cannot imagine them welcoming a child that is not their own, regardless of any relation to them."

"Alas, my dear, this is the only way to ensure that Harry does not fall into the wrong hands. Not to worry, I have already arranged for one of my acquaintances to move in down the street to keep an eye on things. He will be alright, I assure you."

"As you say, Headmaster," McGonagall said as a roaring sound filled the air. Down the street, a light could be seen growing brighter in the distance, far above the ground but slowly dropping. With a crash, Rubeus Hagrid landed the motorcycle on Privet Drive and came to a stop beside the two. He heaved himself over the bike and removed the goggles from his face.

"Sorry for the noise, Professor, I'm still gettin' the hang of this thin'," said Hagrid as he approached. He reached into his coat and pulled a sleeping Harry out. "I'll miss the little guy," he said as he passed the child to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore pulled a letter from his sleeve and tucked it into the blanket wrapped around Harry. Approaching the doorstep of number 4, he placed Harry on the top step and moved back. Removing his wand, Dumbledore weaved a ward around the property that was activated by intent and magic. Any being carrying Voldemort's magic in a Dark Mark would be unable to find the place, and neither would any other magical being wishing harm upon Harry. Finishing with a warming charm cast upon the sleeping child, he rejoined his colleagues past the gate.

"Not to worry, Hagrid, we will see him again in a few years," said Dumbledore as they walked down the street. After a quiet moment of observation, McGonagall and Hagrid left. When he was all alone, Dumbledore looked one more time at Harry, and disapparated.

* * *

Throughout the country, hidden from the eyes of the Muggle world, witches and wizards everywhere toasted Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

Flying across the English Channel at breakneck speeds, an ethereal cloud of black mist promised revenge on Harry Potter, the child of prophecy.

* * *

At number 4 Privet Drive, a woman screamed as she opened the front door the next morning.

* * *

 **Edit: Added line saying that the spell would naturally degrade when the child turned eleven.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Content Warning: Implied child abuse**

* * *

On a playground, a small child was cornered by seven larger and older children. The isolated corner was out of the sight of the teachers, and they all knew it.

"So, freak, what game do you want to play today?" asked the largest of the kids. "There's always Harry Hunting, but I'm sure we could make up a new game if you wanted," he said with a laugh. Stomping over, he reached down to pick up his cousin. Before he could, though, Harry shot to his feet and threw a punch into Dudley's gut. There was a moment of dead silence.

This silence was soon followed by laughter as Dudley shoved Harry back to the ground. "You call that a punch? Ha, I didn't even feel that!" Dudley said, launching a kick into Harry's left side.

 _Probably because you've got so much fat there,_ Harry thought, more to avoid thinking about the pain than anything else. With a sudden _crack_ , Harry shouted as he felt the bones in his wrist snap under the massive weight of his cousin. With quick looks of panic, the older kids turned and ran, with Dudley shouting "Just wait 'til after school, Potter, this ain't over!" as he ran. Harry slowly sat up and cradled his arm as he leaned against the wall of the school. He leaned back and stared at the sky with tears falling down his cheeks.

Had Harry been looking, he would have seen a soft green glow covering his wrist, writhing up and down his entire forearm in twisting ropes. Then, the twisting cords of light snapped straight and Harry gasped. Looking down now, his hand was no longer hanging at a strange angle, and the remaining pain was simply a dull ache rather than the previous throbbing. He slowly flexed his hand, feeling as even the ache slowly faded.

The bell rang, and Harry stood and ran back to the school.

* * *

Dudley crashed through the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive and slammed the door behind him just as Harry was crossing the threshold. Running into the living room, he found his mother and began sobbing loudly. "Mo-o-om, Harry beat me on the quiz today in math," he choked out between his tears.

"FREAK!" Petunia screeched as Harry walked into the room. "Who did you cheat off of today, boy? We all know you're not smart enough to do this on your own. On Monday, you're going to admit it to your teacher, you hear me? And I expect your uncle will want to have words with you when he gets back from work. Go to your room, NOW!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. He shut the cupboard door behind him, curled into a ball in the darkest corner of the room, and began to sob quietly.

* * *

That weekend was the worst of Harry's short life. He had been trapped in his cupboard from Friday afternoon until Saturday night, only being let out once by his aunt to use the loo. At almost midnight on Saturday, his uncle stomped to the cupboard, wrenched the door open, and yanked Harry out by one leg. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming as he dragged Harry into the kitchen.

"Boy, we have made so many sacrifices for you. Your damn parents went and got themselves killed, and _we_ took you in out of the kindness of our own hearts. We could've dropped you at an orphanage, or even on the side of the highway somewhere, but we let you stay. We've kept a roof over your head, fed you, and done our best to raise you right. Then I hear that you cheated at school. Well, boy, I've had enough. It's clear that your parents influenced you more than we could have expected, and now I've got to deal with you. I have had ENOUGH!" Vernon Dursley raised his fist.

* * *

Later that night, Harry laid on his mattress, unable to move. He was covered in bruises, and could barely muster the energy to pull his tattered blanket over his legs. Falling back, he stared up at the ceiling. _Why does this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?_ he thought. He closed his eyes. With his entire being, the boy had one wish. _I don't want them to be able to hurt me anymore. I want to be strong. But nobody will help me… I need to be strong on my own. I won't let them break me!_

With a flash of green, the boy's partially bound magic got to work on making his desires a reality. Unknown to Harry, his magic's inability to drain into the earth was causing it to build up within his body. While it was a slow build up, with small bits of magic such as growing hair and healing injuries doing their part to drain it, eventually his core would fill to a critical point. This would cause Harry's core to, quite literally, explode from the excess pressure within it.

A normal witch or wizard had a single magical channel down each limb and one to their head. Over time, the channel in their wand arm would expand, allowing for the use of more magic in a short amount of time. Harry's magic decided that, in order to fulfill its master's command, there needed to be channels to every location in his body. The five main channels expanded, and smaller channels went to the tips of his fingers, coated his skin, and even permeated his eyes and teeth.

Harry gasped as he saw green light fill the room and felt warmth expand through his entire body. His bruises faded, and fractures in his bones, both new and old, mended themselves. Torn muscles flowed back together and strengthened. After several minutes, the glow faded, and Harry was able to relax. With a contented sigh, he sank back into the thin mattress and let his eyes close.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed midnight, Harry Potter turned six.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Updates will be sporadic and since I'm moving into finals week. Afterwords, it should pick up a bit during winter break. As always, reviews are welcome. Hope you're enjoying _Unbreakable_ so far!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Content Warning: Explicit child abuse**

* * *

Early the next morning, two green eyes opened slowly in the darkness under the stairs. With a jolt, Harry sat up. Something was off. _What is it? Why does something feel… different?_ Suddenly it hit him. _The pain… it's gone!_ For almost as long as he could remember, Harry had rarely been entirely free from pain. He was often either recovering from a recent injury, or dealing with aches and pains from old ones. Right now, he felt none. Stretching, he explored his new mobility with growing confidence, as much as he could in the cramped quarters.

An hour or so later, the sounds of a pair of whales tumbling down the staircase startled him from his thoughts. With a bang, the cupboard door slammed open and Vernon Dursley peered in.

"Boy! Get to cooking. Me and Dudders have a big day ahead of us so we need a full breakfast. Petunia will give you your chores when you're finished."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. I'll get right on it," replied Harry. Walking to the stove, he pulled out a dozen eggs and a pound of sausage, the standard breakfast for the two elephants seated at the kitchen table. He cracked the eggs into a pan and dumped the sausage into another, then flipped the burners on.

"Hey, freak, get me some chocolate milk while you're at it, too," Dudley shouted.

Harry rushed out a minute later with the milk and set it on the table. He walked back to the kitchen, but began to panic at the smell of smoke. _The sausage!_ He ran to the stove and shoved the pan off the burner, but overextended in the process. Falling forward, he threw out his hand to the only available surface: the stovetop. Harry winced and slammed his eyes closed in anticipation.

Several seconds later, without the sensation of either falling to the floor or of burning flesh, Harry cautiously opened his eyes. To his shock, his hand was supporting him on the clearly red hot burner, but he felt nothing beyond an uncomfortable warmth. He took his hand off the burner and looked at his palm. It was a bit red, but the skin was undamaged. Even as he watched, he saw green sparks flutter over his palm and return it to its normal color.

"That better not be smoke I'm smelling…" Vernon said as he walked into the kitchen, only to see Harry standing near the stove staring at his hand. "You had one job to do this morning, boy, and you couldn't even get it right!" he yelled, stomping forward and grabbing the hand that Harry was inspecting. "I'll teach you to disrespect us!" He slammed the boys hand down onto the burning stove, and braced his ears for the inevitable screaming.

It never came. Vernon looked at the boy in front of him, who was simply looking at the stove in fascination. Horror filled Vernon as he realized what was happening before his own eyes. _Magic!_ Vernon had never seen such an overt display before, only having seen the boy grow hair overnight or somehow heal debilitating injuries overnight. _This… this is unnatural_ , he thought. _This can't be allowed to remain in my house. I need to do something!_ The huge man shoved the child across the kitchen away from him. He stumbled and fell, and a dull _thunk_ sounded as his head struck the faux granite countertop.

Vernon paused for a moment. While he may hate the boy, murder was something he wasn't comfortable with, mainly due to how difficult it was to hide from the authorities. However, before he could even begin to plan his next move, the boy stood up with no difficulty.

Harry was confused. First, his uncle had forced his hand on the burning stove, and he had felt almost nothing. Then his head had been smashed against a stone counter, and while he had felt a small amount of pain upon contact, there was no throbbing or lasting headache. Despite this, though, his uncle's actions could easily have killed him. He glared up at his uncle with hatred in his eyes. Vernon recoiled briefly, then gathered up his meager courage. Grabbing Harry's arm again, he dragged him towards his cupboard. "You'll be lucky if you get out of there in the next week!" Vernon locked the cupboard and turned back to the kitchen. "Let's go Dudley, looks like we'll be picking up breakfast on the way."

* * *

Two days later, Harry was still stuck in his cupboard, and had only two trips to the loo in that time. However, while these stints in his own personal prison used to be some of the worst experiences of his life, not to mention monotonous, he had something else to focus on this time.

He had seen the green sparks on his hand. In the past, he thought he had seen green lights out of the corners of his eyes, but chalked it up to his bad eyesight. This time, it was different. He had not been exhausted, concussed, or without his glasses. He could only make one guess as to what it was, even if the Dursleys had tried to disabuse him of any notion of it: magic. He didn't know how it was possible, but it was the only explanation. It also explained the fear he had observed in Vernon after he had been unharmed by the burning stove.

 _Come on, you've done it before_ , Harry urged himself. The last two days, Harry had been experimenting. At first, he would just lightly scratch himself with a fingernail, just enough to leave a mark but not to bleed. He was astonished to observed green light healing each mark almost as fast as they were made. Moving on, he tried lancing his finger with a safety pin, drawing the smallest amount of blood. Each time, a green pinprick of light would shine from the cut, and it would be gone almost immediately. Having established that he had some sort of unnatural power, he turned to trying to focus it intentionally. Now, Harry was attempting to levitate a clump of lint from one of his pockets. So far, he was having no success.

With frustration, he pointed at the lint once again, nearly shaking with the intensity of his concentration. Once again, there was no effect. In annoyance, he slammed his hand into the wall of his cupboard. At least, he tried to.

His hand went straight through the drywall, meeting almost no resistance. Harry stared in shock. The edges of the hole next to him were slightly charred, as if a red hot poker from a fireplace had pierced the wall instead of a hand. He slowly removed his hand from the hole and inspected it. There was a bit of dust covering it, but it was completely unharmed. Touching it with his other hand, he found it was slightly warm to the touch. He had done it! This _had_ to be magic.

Knowing now that he could do this, Harry focused on his hand, imagining it sitting in a raging fire and absorbing the heat. To his shock and glee, he could see a light green glow emanating from his hand. Placing his palm lightly against the bottom of the staircase above him, he heard a light hissing. He removed his hand and saw a blackened palm print in the wood.

Harry grinned. He could use _magic_.


	6. Chapter 6

Today was Friday. Seven days ago, Harry had scored too well on a math quiz and been locked in his cupboard for over a day. Six days ago, Harry had experienced the worst beating of his life at the hands of his drunk uncle. Five days ago, Vernon had tried to scorch Harry's hand and shoved him into a stone countertop, and Harry had been unharmed. Then, three days ago, Harry had consciously used magic for the first time. And now, Harry was about to be let out of his personal prison.

Ever since that first time, Harry had been experimenting. He discovered that his magic was unable to affect anything besides Harry directly, but he could still do many things simply by using his magic on himself. He couldn't levitate anything, but if it was something heavy he could power his muscles using his magic and lift it anyways. He was always drained after this, but if used correctly today he wouldn't have to worry about needing to protect himself constantly.

"Let's go, freak. Time to make dinner," Petunia said as she unlocked the cupboard and pulled it open. Harry stepped out and leveled a glare at his aunt.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied. He was furious, more so than he could ever remember being. After some thought, he had realized that his relatives knew about magic. That was the only reason he could think of for why they were so set against anything "unnatural," and even avoided the word "magic." They must have known, and deliberately hid it from him.

Reeling in his emotions, Harry turned away and moved towards the kitchen. He had a plan, but he could not afford to lose his cool. If things went the way he hoped, he would never have to go back to that cupboard again. With luck, he could even try to make friends. Arriving at the kitchen, he realized that Petunia had not told him what the meal would be today. He turned around, but she had left, apparently going back upstairs. Shrugging, Harry moved to the refrigerator and took out some food to make a sandwich. Since being locked away, Harry had only received two slices of bread each morning, so he was ravenous.

He quickly made a corned beef sandwich and wolfed it down. Hearing the stomping on the stairs that could only mean the arrival of his bulky relatives, he ran to the dining table and stood behind the extra wide chair at the head. Seconds later, the door banged open, and Vernon and Dudley Dursley waddled in. Vernon's eyes narrowed at the sight of Harry behind his usual chair.

"Boy, that food had better be ready…" Vernon trailed off, seeing the unrepentant look on Harry's face.

"Sit down, Uncle. I have some things to say to you all," Harry said coldly.

"You think you can order me around? In my own house? You're mad, boy. Get back to the kitchen before I make you," Vernon growled in response.

"Sit. Down. I won't ask again," Harry said in a calm voice, portraying much more confidence than he felt. This was the critical part of the plan, and could not afford to fail.

Vernon's small eyes narrowed even further. He would not be disrespected like this, not in his own home. This was _his_ territory, and he would not be threatened by this puny creature. With a snarl, Vernon advanced on the child before him.

Harry focused on one thing as his uncle approached. _I will_ not _move._ He could feel the magic within him moving at his command, enveloping his entire body. Vernon's fat hands reached out, the sausage-like fingers grasping for him. Harry's eyes closed.

Dudley was confused. First, he saw his wimpy cousin standing behind the dining table, which he knew he was _not_ allowed to do. The only time the freak was allowed in this room was to serve them food, and there was none on the table. After his cousin and father exchanged some words, his dad started to stomp towards Harry. Dudley smiled with glee. He knew this would not end well for Potter. However, when his dad reached the freak, he simply collided with him. The grin slid off his face.

Harry opened his eyes and almost laughed at the view before him. Vernon had bounced off him as if he was a stone wall, and was now doing his best to push Harry to the ground, to no avail. Harry raised a single eyebrow at his uncle, then shoved him away with one hand.

"Ready to listen, now, Uncle?" Harry inquired, still in a calm voice.

"You… Freak! What did you do? How dare you do this in my house! I ought to throw you out on the street like I wanted to years ago! Ungrateful brat… You'll wish you had never been born!" Vernon sputtered with impotent rage.

"Uncle, I've decided that it's time for some changes around here."

" _You've_ decided? Boy, the only decision-"

Harry snapped. He grabbed the edge of the table nearest him and lifted with all of his magically-enhanced might. The table flipped once before smashing into the ceiling with a crash, and falling back to the floor, spreading bits of plaster and shattered wood throughout the room. Vernon and Dudley pressed their backs to the nearest wall, wide eyes taking in the destruction before them.

"What in God's name was tha-" Petunia's voice cut off as she came into view. "Vernon, what-"

"It's time we had a talk," Harry cut her off.

* * *

Later that night, Harry settled into his new bedroom on the second floor. After his demonstration showed that he had more to offer than idle threats, the negotiations had gone relatively well, at least, through his perspective. He had "convinced" his relatives to give him the unused bedroom on the second floor, and to give him more freedom. His grades would no longer be their concern, and he would be free to come and go from the house as he pleased. In return, he would cook for them a few time per week and perform a reasonable amount of chores. The Dursleys were obviously not pleased by the turn of events, but had little choice after seeing that they no longer had any leverage over Harry.

Now that he was free, Harry began to plan for his future. With his newfound freedom, he would be able to do almost anything he desired. First and foremost in Harry's mind was learning. For as long as he could remember, the Dursleys had actively damaged his education, handing out punishments when he scored higher than Dudley and not allowing him access to his school materials for homework. Now, he would be able to perform to his capabilities without worry of repercussions.

Step one would be to bring his grades up to an acceptable level. Currently, he was enrolled in a summer school program for students who failed their previous grade. Dudley had failed, and so of course Harry had as well. This way, his summers would be open for him to do whatever he wanted instead of attending school every day. Perhaps he could also join a sports team if he had enough free time, but that would have to wait and see.

Step two would be to explore his newfound abilities. While his demonstration had sufficiently cowed the Dursleys into caving to his demands, he had been exhausted to the point of collapse. This was obviously unacceptable, as there was little point to having power if he passed out after using it. Training was in order, both to discover new aspects of his power and to increase his stamina while using it.

Harry smiled to himself. Life was starting to look up.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry reached the turn to Privet Drive and slowed down to a walking pace. He looked up at the sky with his hands on his hips and took several slow, deep breaths as his heartbeat slowed. Getting his breathing under control, he looked back down and performed some cooldown stretches as he got closer to number 4. He turned up the driveway, used his key to unlock the front door, and went inside.

Things around the Dursley household had changed over the last five years. Things had been very tense for a while, but eventually all four inhabitants had learned to relax at least somewhat around each other. Vernon no longer glared at Harry every time he entered a room, Petunia had lessened the frequency of her disapproving sniffs, and even Dudley had stopped his constant bullying of his cousin. In return, Harry had stopped flaunting his magic in front of them, and usually kept out of their way. While they were in no way friendly towards each other, and Harry would never forgive them for the suffering they had causing him when he was younger, it was a workable situation.

Harry's life outside of the house had changed as well. He spent the year after the confrontation studying almost nonstop, and had managed to bring his grades up from the abysmal levels they had been at, and hadn't had to return to summer school the following year. In fact, he was consistently competing for the top spot in his classes, and had even participated in a few scholastic competitions the previous year.

He spent a significant amount of his free time at the library, reading a variety of books on an even wider variety of topics. He studied literature, science, foreign language, anything that struck his fancy. After his breakthrough with magic, he found that his memory was much improved. By no means did he have a photographic memory, but he was able to understand complicated ideas much easier than he had before.

While he had ultimately decided not to join any sports teams due to the large time commitment, he had started to do some rudimentary workouts on his own. They consisted almost entirely of cardio workouts like running, though he also performed some strength and core exercises on a regular basis. After nearly five years of consistent exercise, he was in excellent shape for his age. He had no bulging muscles or defined abdominals, but had lost a portion of his baby fat and looked about a year or two older than his actual age of nearly eleven.

He was most proud of his progress in his magical abilities, though. He had determined after months of experimentation that magic was something that existed only in his body. No matter what he tried, he could not directly affect something with magic outside of his body. This even included food in his stomach, which he had experimented with as well. However, his expertise in manipulating his body had grown exponentially. He discovered that his ability to magically increase his strength grew easier with each use, as if his magic was adapting to more efficiently perform the task. In addition to this, the more muscle he had naturally developed in a particular area, the more magic he could feed into the area. This allowed him to both have more strength, and to maintain it longer.

An extremely useful type of self-modification magic he had found involved his senses. By augmenting them with magic, he could exponentially increase the sensitivity of any of his five senses. He found little purpose for heightened touch or taste, but the other three were incredibly useful. The only drawback was the pain he experienced when he withdrew the magic; if he increased the power of a sense by more than two or so, once the magic left the area it left an aching feeling that only subsided after a few minutes.

These types of magic was usually fairly subtle, unless he increased his strength to ridiculously high levels. He did have access to more blatant magic, such as elemental abilities. He could heat his skin to very high temperatures, or drop it to the point that frost developed on his skin. He could also artificially increase or decrease his weight by about a factor of two, allowing him to jump much higher than normal or increase his momentum significantly.

Harry moved up the stairs to the upstairs bathroom and started a shower. He stepped in while it was still cold and began rinsing the sweat from his morning run off of his skin. Quickly washing and rinsing again, he toweled off and went back to his room. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and grabbed a t-shirt as he walked back down the stairs. He grabbed the mail from the entry mat and carried it into the kitchen with him.

"Here's the mail, Aunt Petunia," he greeted as he walked in. Knowing that the rest of the Dursleys would be waking soon, he began making breakfast. "What would you like for breakfast, Aunt Petunia?"

He never got a reply. He turned around to see his aunt standing still, as if she had been turned to stone. The only motion he could see was her shaking hands, holding a thick letter between her bony fingers. Her face was frozen in a mixture of shock and disgust.

"It's… for you," Petunia eventually choked out, as if she was struggling not to vomit. She extended the letter towards Harry.

"For me?" Harry asked, surprised. He took the letter from Petunia's outstretched hand. On the front, in flowing cursive script written with what appeared to be a calligraphy pen, it said:

 _Mr. H. Potter  
Smallest Bedroom on the Second Floor  
4, Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey_

Flipping it over, he saw an elaborate crest embossed on the other side with _Hogwarts_ written above it, and a wax seal holding it closed. The envelope was made of very thick, heavy paper, and judging by its weight, the contents were as well. He slid his finger inside the letter and pulled it open, and then slid the contents out.

He found two thick parchment sheets inside. He smiled as he read the contents. After his dispute with the Dursleys five years ago, Petunia had discussed with him what had happened to his mother, Lily. He learned everything Petunia knew about Hogwarts and the wizarding world. All summer, he had been anticipating this day, and it had finally come. It was time for him to become a wizard.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I know it looks like this will be a Super!Harry story, but he will have some rather severe limitations, as we'll find out once he reaches Hogwarts. He will be more powerful than the majority of his peers, but he will definitely not be invincible. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Alright, we're here. You can get out now," said Vernon as he pulled over to the side of the road. After receiving his letter, Harry had spoken to his aunt and collected all of the specifics regarding Diagon Alley. She had never actually been there, but she had dropped off her sister at the entrance, and knew where it was.

"Thank you, Uncle. I will see you next summer," Harry replied. He had collected all of his belongings from Privet Drive and packed them into a rucksack, along with enough money to rent out a room until September. Now that he was part of the wizarding world, he would avoid his relatives as much as possible.

Vernon grunted as Harry stepped out of the car, and sped off as soon as Harry closed the door. Turning, Harry looked up at the rickety sign above the door hidden between two glass-windowed shops, reading The Leaky Cauldron. With a smile, Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkened interior of the pub. It was surprisingly shabby for a place that was meant to be the gateway into London's most populated wizarding area. A bar stretched across the wall to his left, with several patrons hunched over it nursing glasses of some unidentifiable liquor. Tables of varying sizes were scattered about the rest of the room, though only a few were occupied. Behind the bar, a bald man whose head vaguely resembled a walnut absently wiped a glass with a tattered rag. Harry approached the near end of the bar, and the bartender shuffled towards him.

"Morning, young sir. Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron! My name is Tom. How can I help you today?"

"Hello, sir. I will be a first year at Hogwarts this fall, and my family is travelling for the rest of the summer. I will need to rent a room until September first, could you point me towards an inn?" Harry asked.

"As it happens, we actually rent out rooms on the second floor. I've got a few open ones, if you'd like? You have great access to both Diagon Alley and Muggle London, in case you have any business to attend to there. Only two Galleons a night for just a room and loo, three if you want the suite," Tom explained. Unfortunately, Harry had no idea what a Galleon was, or where to get it. He would have to get to an exchange or a bank to figure that out.

"As it turns out, I only have pounds right now. Do you know where I can exchange them for… Galleons?" Harry inquired.

"Of course! Just go into the Alley, and if you turn left and go all the way down, you'll find Gringotts, the bank. Just walk on in and ask for currency exchange and they'll get you sorted. C'mon, I'll open the way for you," Tom answered, coming out from behind the bar and walking towards the back door of the pub.

Harry followed him through the door, coming out in a small area enclosed by high brick walls. "Here you go kid, Diagon Alley!" Tom exclaimed as he tapped a few bricks with his wand. With a clatter, the bricks began to whirl and shift, creating an entryway to the alley beyond.

Harry's mouth dropped open. This place was indescribable. He had only been able to see it for a matter of seconds, but it was already the most wondrous thing he had ever seen. There was a purple robed wizard carrying a cage containing what appeared to be a seven headed chicken, arguing with a vendor working at a stall labelled "Genuine Cockatrice Kidney: Guaranteed to Increase Virility!" The stores lining the alley on either side were selling things that Harry could not have imagined were real. Flying broomsticks, magic carpets, the list was endless.

"Well there you go, kid. Remember, all the way down to the left," Tom said as he turned back into his pub.

Harry wandered down the alley slowly, head swiveling back and forth as he tried to commit the entire alley to memory, even as he knew that he wouldn't be able to take in even a fraction of what he was seeing. Suddenly, the rows of shops came to an end, replaced by carved marble structures. He looked up, and was awestruck once again. The building before him was the most extravagant example of architecture he had ever seen. The details were so fine that he couldn't even make out where patterns began or ended.

He walked up the front steps, then froze as he was once again overwhelmed. Two beings in heavy armor, carrying tall halberds flanked the doors. What fascinated him was the clear inhumanity of the beings. They were short, shorter than even Harry was. Any other differences were impossible to determine, since they were wearing full helmets on their heads. He passed through the doors, into a small but excessively decorated entry hall, with large silver doors at the far end. As he approached, words became clear on the surface of the door, reading:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._

Two of the creatures, identical in appearance to the first two, flanked these doors as well. When he came close, the doors opened inwards of their own accord into a massive hall. It was the largest single room Harry had ever seen. The arching ceilings soared nearly a hundred feet in the air, supporting a massive chandelier that hung down over half of the distance from the ceiling. The floors were a combination of black and white marble, blended together into intricate patterns that defied belief in their intricacy. Along either side of the hall, tall counters ran the entire length, with more of the creatures seated on high stools, some sorting what appeared to be gems or precious metals, others attending the needs of customers. Harry moved behind a customer that was already talking to one of the creatures.

"Look here, goblin, I will not be spoken to like that by the likes of you! I demand that you waive the fee. That is complete extortion to charge me for someone else's wrongdoing!" the customer yelled at the creature, now identified as a goblin.

"I'm afraid you declined the option of insuring your key when you first received it, I have no choice but to charge you for a replacement," replied the goblin. His words implied sympathy, but his toothy grin and rough tone said otherwise. "In order to access your vault, you'll need to pay the ten Galleon key replacement charge."

"Highway robbery! I won't be intimidated by you. I have friends in the Goblin Liaison Office, and you can rest assured they'll be hearing of this!" the man exclaimed as he stormed away from the counter.

"Yes, I'm sure they will," said the goblin to himself. He shuffled the files before him into a folder, dropped it into a slot to his side, and turned forward. "Business?"

Harry stepped forward nervously. "Erm… I need to exchange some pounds into Galleons?"

"Name?" asked the goblin as he pulled a form from underneath the counter.

"Harry. Harry Potter."

The goblin's eyes flicked up to Harry's head briefly before focusing again on Harry's eyes. "Really now… isn't that interesting. Hold on a moment." The goblin reached down and pulled out a thin file. Opening it, he scanned the top document for a moment, closed the folder, and dropped it in the slot on the desk. He pressed a button on the countertop. "Send Griphook up here."

"Is there a problem?" Harry inquired.

"It would appear that you own a vault here, but you have never received your key. We will get that taken care of in just a moment."

A goblin walked up behind Harry. "Yes, Clerk Sharpfang?"

"Take Mr. Potter to his vault. I will have someone meet you at the cart with his key. Mr. Potter, would you like to purchase the key loss and theft insurance?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: I made a slight edit to chapter 2 after realizing I forgot to mention something: the spell Dumbledore placed on Harry as a baby naturally degrades when the child turns eleven. Hope you enjoyed!**


	9. Chapter 9

The air flew past Harry and Griphook as they barreled down into the depths of the earth. They flew past landing after landing, with no signs of slowing down or levelling off. After speaking to Sharpfang and purchasing the key insurance, Harry and Griphook had moved through the doors at the end of the main hall and met up with another goblin at the cart tracks. The goblin had handed a small golden key to Harry, along with a leather pouch, allowed them to get seated in the cart, then gave Harry a feral grin as he yanked a lever on the nearby wall. The rails they were on dropped to almost vertical, and sent them down into the vaults.

After several minutes, Harry and Griphook came to a screeching halt. They stepped out of the cart, and it immediately zoomed away down the tracks.

"Vault 687, Potter trust vault. Key, please," Griphook said as they walked towards the massive metal door. Harry passed the key to the goblin without a word, and watched Griphook step to the door, turn the key in the lock, and pull the door open. "Here you are. Take all the time you need," Griphook said, though his tone said the opposite.

"Thank you," Harry replied as he walked into the vault. The entire vault had piles of gold coins stacked up over six feet tall, with smaller stacks of silver and bronze coins at the base. "What is the conversion rate for Galleons?" he called out to Griphook.

"One Galleon is worth £25. There are 17 Sickles per Galleon, and 29 Knuts per Sickle," Griphook replied.

Grabbing the pouch he had been given, Harry began collecting Galleons and dropping them into the small bag. He noticed something odd after the first handful, though: the bag had gotten no heavier. In fact, it didn't show the bulge he would have expected from the coins within, either. He flipped the bag over, and the coins poured out into his palm. Apparently, the pouch did not get heavier as things were put in, and it also had more room inside than it appeared. Shrugging, and vowing to learn about this kind of magic when he had more time, he started filling the bag with handfuls of Galleons.

Deciding he had enough, he sealed the pouch and attached it to his belt. Turning, he glanced about the vault one more time, and walked to the exit. Griphook nodded, apparently pleased with his expediency, and pulled a lever hidden on the wall behind the door. Seconds later, another cart had zoomed into place just off the platform. The goblin sealed the doors, handed the key to Harry, and the pair sat down in the cart.

* * *

Upon exiting the bank, Harry knew his first stop would have to be a bookstore, so he could find out more about the world he was now inhabiting. It would not be wise to explore the world without knowing anything about it, even if he was absolutely fascinated by everything he could see. It appeared that the bookstore in Diagon Alley was called Flourish and Blotts. Harry made his way there and immediately went to the history section. His priority was recent history, as well as general information regarding customs and general life in the wizarding world.

His final selection of books included _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_ , _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_ , _Hogwarts, A History_ , and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ , with an assortment of other books regarding law and culture in the wizarding world. He then decided he had enough to get by at the moment, and resolved to return to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Harry removed his clothing from his rucksack and began placing it in the dresser in his room. Unpacking was well worth the effort, since he would be staying here for over a month. He had opted for the cheaper option of a bedroom and restroom to himself for two galleons per night, rather than the more expensive suite: there was no reason to waste money, even if he had more than enough. Placing his final shirt in the top drawer, he then moved to his recent purchases: the books. He had a lot to work through. Exploration of the alley could wait until tomorrow. It would be a perfect birthday present to himself.

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open. Something was… different. He reached to his bedside table, and was barely able to make out the time on the clock: 11:50 p.m. He placed the clock back on the table and stared up at the ceiling. He could not shake the feeling, though. Harry began to focus, and soon he was able to sense his magic inside his body. He could feel his magic flowing through him, but it felt strained. No, that wasn't the right word… it was agitated. It was restless, flowing first to one arm, then the other, then up to his head. The usual smooth flow from core to body and back was disturbed, but he still could not find out why.

As the minutes ticked by, his magic became even more petulant, crackling under his skin in a manner akin to lightning. Harry was getting nervous. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Ever since discovering his power, Harry had kept his magic under complete control, never allowing it to do anything beyond his wishes. Now, even while actively attempting to reign it in, he was still unable to calm it down.

As soon as midnight struck, Harry's entire body began glowing with a dull green light. A film of energy appeared on his skin, growing in intensity by the second. Then, thin lines began to spread across the film, appearing almost like cracks expanding on a glass sheet. The intensity grew again, now blindingly bright, forcing Harry to close his eyes. Finally, with one more pulse of light, the film visibly shattered, rushing outwards incredibly quickly, enveloping the entire room in a soft green light. Then, just as fast, it slammed back into Harry with incredible force, knocking him out in the process.

* * *

The next morning, Harry awakened slowly. He groaned as he stretched, muscles aching as though he had run a marathon the previous day. He slowly sat up on the edge of his bed and rolled his shoulders, hearing his joints pop as he did so. Suddenly, as he remembered what had happened last night, he sat ramrod straight and began inspecting his magic. It felt mostly back to normal, but something still wasn't right.

He saw it. Something that had never happened before, something he had tried hundreds of times and inevitably met with failure. His magic was extending past his skin. Up until this point, he had never been able to move his magic outside of his body, as if it was stuck behind an invisible barrier. After much trial and error, he had simply assumed that a wizard's magic could only leave their body with a special conduit, like the wands his aunt had grudgingly described to him years ago. Now, he could clearly see that this was not the case.

Closing his eyes and focusing, he imagined a small flame floating above his palm, and directed his magic to make it reality. When he felt his magic begin to drain, he opened his eyes and nearly shouted with glee: a small, flickering ball of fire was floating above his palm. Grinning, he began to direct it all over his body, bouncing it to his shoulder, then to his knee, and then to his other palm. Excitement growing, he sent it flying towards the far wall to test his control.

The ball of fire never made it. After moving about a foot away from him, the flame sputtered and died. He felt his magic snap back into him almost painfully at the same instant. In confusion, Harry tried it again, moving the fire more slowly this time, and met with the same result, though with a less painful backlash. It seemed his magic did not perform well after leaving his body.

While slightly concerned, Harry decided not to worry too much about it. He still knew practically nothing about magic, and it seemed likely that this was, in fact, a normal occurrence. He moved to the dresser and picked up the list of required school supplies that had come with his Hogwarts acceptance letter. Now seemed as good a time as any to begin purchasing his supplies, and he could use this opportunity to explore the alley and learn more about his new world.

He already knew where his first stop would be. Wizards needed wands to perform complex magic, and so he needed to purchase one. He had seen a wand shop called Ollivander's the previous day, but he would check with Tom first to see if there were any other options: it had looked fairly beaten down. He grabbed his empty rucksack and moved towards the door of his room.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry locked the door to his rented room, then descended the stairs down to the main floor of The Leaky Cauldron. Since it was somewhat early in the morning, it was unpopulated and Harry was easily able to approach Tom.

"Morning, Tom. Listen, I need to go buy my wand today, and was wondering if you knew of where to get one? I saw Ollivander's yesterday, but didn't see any other wand shops."

"To be honest, young sir, Ollivander's is really the only place around to buy a wand. There's a few shops down in Knockturn Alley, but those wands are likely to be ill-gotten or poorly matched, not to mention a gentleman of your age shouldn't be going anywhere near that place. Loads of bad folks down there," Tom answered.

"Thanks, Tom. I'll be out shopping most of the day, but I might stop back here for lunch," Harry spoke as he exited the back door into Diagon Alley. "Uhh… Think you could open the entrance for me?" he shouted back into the pub.

Tom shuffled quickly to the wall and tapped the correct brick. Murmuring another quiet farewell, he moved back into his bar. Harry stepped through the archway and began making his way towards Ollivander's. The alley was nearly deserted, with only a few witches and wizards making their way from store to store. In short order, he was standing in front of Ollivander's. He took in the shabby appearance of the store, from the faded and peeling paint to the door that looked as if it could fall of its hinges given a strong breeze. Shrugging, he pulled open the door (which felt much sturdier than it looked) and stepped inside.

The instant the door closed behind him, Harry felt nervous, as if he was being watched. He glanced around suspiciously, but didn't see anybody. He looked around, taking in the interior of the shop. There was a counter running the width of the entire store, but his attention was immediately caught by the towering shelves behind it. They reached upwards much farther than the outside of the shop would suggest was possible, at least thirty feet, and stretched away from him into the shadows until he could no longer see them. Each shelf had a haphazard mess of long, thin boxes stacked on them. Harry stepped farther into the shop, then called out.

"Hello? Is anybody here? I'd like to buy a wand," he spoke into the empty room. Feeling a bit foolish, he stepped forward to the counter and rang the small bell resting there. "Hello?"

"Mr. Potter," came a soft voice from behind him. Harry whirled and bent his knees slightly as his eyes cast about the room, searching for the person who had spoken. It didn't take much effort.

The man standing before him was old, older than anyone Harry had seen before. He had stringy gray hair that hung to his shoulders, though it looked well kept. His skin was wrinkled and very pale, as though he hadn't stepped into sunlight in the last two decades. The most unique feature about him, though, was the eyes that felt as though they pierced directly into his soul. They were silver, and seemed as if they were glowing.

"I suspected you might be coming along here one of these days," the man continued. "I must say, you look shockingly like your father did when he first came here. Everything except your eyes… they must have come from your mother. Forgive me – where are my manners? Garrick Ollivander, at your service."

"How did you know my name?" Harry asked, still in shock at the man's sudden appearance.

"Mr. Potter, I'm afraid most everyone knows your name. You are, of course, somewhat of a celebrity."

"A celebrity? What are you talking about?"

"You mean… you don't know? Nobody told you?" Ollivander had a look of shock on his face, coupled with no small amount of sympathy. "Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I must discuss some topics of great importance with you. Allow me a moment, would you?"

While Harry by no means fully trusted the man before him, he did seem fairly harmless, not to mention earnest. Beyond that, Harry knew he always had his own limited magics to draw on, which should be at least enough to leap through the window into the street beyond. He nodded to the old man, who gave something of a sad smile and moved towards the door.

After flipping a "closed" sign over the front door of his shop and pulling a few of the blinds, Ollivander had pulled a few stools out from behind his counter and flicked his wand towards the back of the shop, causing a teapot and two mugs to float out and settle between the stools. He motioned towards the stools, and after Harry had settled down, took his own seat and poured tea into both cups.

"Now, then, it all started when a young man came into this very shop…"

* * *

A couple hours later, Harry felt as though he had just stepped off a roller coaster stuck at max speed. His head was whirling with all of the new information he had just taken in. According to Ollivander (and Harry had every intention of fact checking everything he had said), there had been a war in the wizarding world for several years before his birth. Some "Dark Lord" who called himself Voldemort had set his sights on the entirety of magical Britain, and had gathered hundreds of followers to help him do so. In the process, he had apparently deemed Harry's parents a significant threat, and had personally gone to their house and murdered them. However, when he attempted to kill Harry, the spell he had used had bounced back and killed him instead.

Apparently, after that, the wizarding world had gone mad in celebration, and dubbed Harry the "Boy-Who-Lived," and he and his lightning bolt scar became famous overnight. Harry had always wondered how he had received the pale scar on his forehead, and apparently this was it. Fortunately, it had faded significantly to the point it was barely visible, so he would not be immediately recognizable. Ollivander had also told Harry of the true past of this Lord Voldemort, how he had once been a boy named Tom Riddle, and slowly transformed into the monster everyone feared to this day. There were a multitude of other tidbits that he had also been told, but he could not fully process them at the moment, with all the rest that was on his mind.

"Now, I know we got a fair bit off topic, but would I be wrong in assuming that you are still interested in purchasing a wand?" Ollivander broke the silence.

"Er… yes, sir, if it's not too much trouble."

"Well stand up, let's see what we're working with," Ollivander replied.

* * *

Another hour or so later, Harry and Ollivander were surrounded by discarded boxes. They must have tested at least two hundred wands, yet there had been no match. In fact, Harry had not felt so much as a twitch from a single one.

"Hmm… very curious. Well, I have one more that we might try. Here you are… Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Go on, give it a wave."

As Harry grasped the stick in his right hand, he finally felt something from the wand. Unfortunately, it was certainly not what he was hoping for. He gasped as the wand burned in his palm, causing him to drop it in shock.

"Well, I can't say I expected that one. Can't say I've ever seen that kind of reaction before, at least not from an unbonded wand. Mr. Potter, I'm sorry to say that I don't have any more wands that could be compatible. Now, before you panic, that isn't to say I can't get you one. It'll just have to be something of a custom order. Hold on a moment…" Ollivander waved his wand vaguely towards the back room. "I'll just need to collect a blood sample. Should be able to finish it by tomorrow afternoon, and you can pick it up and pay for it then." A small orb floated out from the back room and dropped gently in Ollivander's outstretched palm.

"Alright. What do I need to do?" Harry inquired.

"Just grab this ball in your hand and squeeze. You'll feel a little pinch, and that's all."

Harry took the ball from Ollivander's hand and did as he asked. He felt a prick as if a needle had stabbed his palm, then nothing. He opened his hand and looked down. Nothing had changed, except for the small smear of blood on one side of the orb. He extended his hand towards Ollivander, who flicked his wand at the ball which disappeared again into the back of the shop.

"Now, Mr. Potter, please feel free to stop by anytime, even after you get your wand. I found our conversation earlier to be quite enjoyable, regardless of the rather somber topic."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander, for everything. I'll see you tomorrow," Harry replied, and he walked out of the shop.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry stepped out of Ollivander's shop, mind whirling. This morning, he had woken up believing that he was just an ordinary kid. Well, as ordinary as a wizard could be. Over the course of the past several hours, that perception had been removed from him in a rather forcible manner. First, he discovered that he was some kind of celebrity in the wizarding world, and he had somehow vanquished the most feared man who had ever lived in it. As if that wasn't enough, he then tested what felt like every wand in Ollivander's store and come up empty handed. While Ollivander hadn't seemed overly concerned, Harry did get the feeling that it wasn't quite normal.

Taking a deep breath, Harry focused on the rest of the tasks he had to complete today. It was past lunchtime, so the first step would be to find some food. Then he could get to shopping for the rest of his school supplies. Deciding to return to The Leaky Cauldron, he set his shoulders and returned to the alley entrance. Upon arriving, he stopped up short. Until now, the entrance had been opened by a wizard with a wand. Tom had let him into the alley, and he had managed to follow someone else in after his foray into Gringotts yesterday.

Wanting to try something, Harry stepped up to the brick wall and gently tapped the brick he knew to be the keystone. There was no effect. This time, Harry focused on his magic and forced a small amount to settle just above his fingertip. Tapping again, the bricks whirled into the now familiar archway leading to the Cauldron. Harry grinned at his success. It appeared that he could mimic the magic of a wand, at least when not casting spells.

He walked inside and sat down at one end of the bar. He raised a hand to Tom, who waved in return and began walking down the bar towards him.

"Afternoon, sir, what can I be doing for you?" he asked as he approached.

"Hey, Tom. What do you have on the lunch menu?"

"Just a roast beef sandwich today. I could just charge the cost to your room?"

"Sounds great, Tom. Thanks," Harry replied.

* * *

A few minutes later, Tom returned with Harry's lunch. He slid the plate across the bar in front of Harry, then pulled up a stool on his side of the bar an sat down.

"Now, as I'm sure you've noticed, I've been rather… tolerant of your refusal to tell me your name. I'm afraid it has been long enough; I can't in good conscious continue to allow you to stay here without some details."

Harry sighed. He had known this would happen eventually, but had hoped it would take another few days, especially after the revelations of that morning.

"Alright, Tom… but you have to promise me that nobody else will hear about this. I swear my secret will not harm anyone else."

"Let's hear it, then."

"My name… is Harry Potter."

* * *

He had to admit, that had gone much better than he expected. After his initial shock had worn off, Tom had proven to be quite trustworthy. He had placed Harry's tab under the pseudonym of James Evans. It wasn't a very clever name, but it should hold up for the remainder of the summer. Polishing off his sandwich and placing the plate into the bin at one end of the bar, he walked out to the back and used his magic to reveal the alley.

Harry glanced down at his list as he moved into the alley. Figuring he might as well start at the top of the list, he decided to go shopping for his clothing. The most popular clothing store that he could see appeared to be Madam Malkin's so he slowly walked in that direction, taking in the sights as he went. After his short walk, he briefly examined the clothes on display in the shop window and went inside.

* * *

An exhausting hour and a half later, Harry stepped out of Madam Malkin's with two shrunken bags filled with a variety of wizarding clothing, including robes, cloaks, gloves made from exotic animal skins, and other assorted items. He had been poked, prodded, and measured in places he'd rather not mention, but at least he was finished. Checking the list again, he found that he only had one more destination: the apothecary, to pick up his potions supplies. Fortunately enough, the only apothecary store he had seen thus far was called the Apothecary.

It was only a few stores down from Madam Malkin's, and he arrived quickly. When he opened the door, he was assaulted by the most disgusting and bizarre mixture of smells he had ever experienced. Quickly utilizing his magic to decrease the sensitivity of his nose, he moved inside the shop and approached the counter.

"What can I do fer you?" Spoke a voice from behind a curtain separating the store from what was likely the storage area. The voice was quickly followed by a man dressed in thick black robes. He had graying hair and was balding in the center of his scalp. "Welcome to the Apothecary, I'm the apothecary. Looking for Hogwarts potions ingredients, I assume?"

"Hello, sir, nice to meet you. That's right, I'm a first year and I need to pick up my supplies for potions class," Harry replied. Just then, a bell rang quietly as the front door of the shop was opened again.

"Ah, Professor Snape! I was wondering when you would show up. You hadn't showed up for your usual shipment yet. I was just helping one of your soon-to-be students pick up his supplies for the next year. Excuse me, young sir, but this will just take a moment," he said to Harry. "His delivery is already put together in the back. If you'd like to get the payment ready, Severus, I'll go grab your crate."

"Thank you, Isaac, that would be perfect," the newcomer replied with a silky voice. Turning, Harry finally got his first look at one of his new professors.

The man was somewhat taller than average, with an extremely slim build. The fingers peeking out from the sleeves of his cloak were long and spindly, and moved with remarkable surety as they picked several coins from a pouch secured at his waist. His hair reached his shoulders, and was somewhat greasy. His skin was pale, though it had a slight yellow tinge to it. As their eyes finally met, Harry was shocked by their blackness. They looked as if someone had placed small black holes where there should have been eyes. Instead of looking into his soul, like Ollivander's eyes had, these ones looked directly through him.

The man looked as if he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by the return of the apothecary. "Here you are, Severus, the usual shipment. I assume you have – ah, there we go," he said as Snape dropped several Galleons onto the countertop. "Well, I suppose I'll see you next month. Good luck with those kids this term," the apothecary finished with a grin. Snape gave the man a wry grin, then picked up the crate and left the store. "Now, I believe you were looking for the first year potions set?"

* * *

Harry exited the Apothecary with one more shrunken bag under his arm. Even shrunk, they still had some heft to them. Fortunately, he now had all the required items. He began his journey back to The Leaky Cauldron, before realizing he wasn't walking in the right direction. He looked around in confusion. He was certain he was walking the correct way when he had left the Apothecary, but now he did not even recognize which part of the alley he was in. He almost growled in frustration, before closing his eyes and calming himself.

He then realized he was here for a reason. His magic had led him here for some reason, but now it was giving him no direction. He glanced around. The only shop that drew his eye was Eeylops Owl Emporium, so he walked in on instinct.

The shop was filled with a cacophony of sounds. Birds of various ancestry squawked loudly, each trying to outdo all the rest. There were tawny owls, barn owls, even a great horned owl. Harry grimaced at the smell that came along with all of the avians, and once again lowered the sensitivity of his nose. He walked around the outer perimeter of the shop, looking at each of the animals in turn, trying to determine why he was drawn here.

Then he saw her. In the back of the shop, locked in a small cage, high up on a shelf, was a stunningly white owl with intelligent amber eyes looking straight back at him. Harry immediately knew this was why he was here. He moved to the shopkeeper immediately and asked what the price was for the snowy owl. Within minutes of walking in the store, Harry was back outside, now the proud owner of a post owl.

Smiling as he looked down at his new companion, Harry began his walk back to The Leaky Cauldron. He now had everything he needed for school, with the exception of his wand, which he could pick up from Ollivander's the next day. Yes, things were looking up for Harry Potter.


	12. Chapter 12

The next afternoon, Harry was wandering down the alley towards Ollivander's store. He had spent the last twenty four hours focused almost entirely on his new books, though he did spend some time with his new owl, who was named Hedwig. He found he shared a strange bond with the animal, able to perceive very general feelings from her, and he believed the bond was reciprocated. When he became frustrated with a particular chapter in his books (detailing the unfair treatment of muggleborns in many industries), his owl had hopped over to him from her perch and started to nuzzle him until his mood improved. He had already decided to revisit the bookstore to find a book on animals, particularly on their interactions with wizards, to find the root of this phenomenon.

He arrived at Ollivander's within a few minutes, and stepped into the store with only a small amount of trepidation. Ollivander was by all means a very kind man, but there was something about him Harry couldn't put his finger on that just creeped him out. Upon closing the door behind him, the sign flipped itself to display "closed" to the alley and the lock flipped closed, along with all of the blinds dropping to cover the windows. Harry spun at the sudden motions and was surprised to see Ollivander standing behind the counter holding one of his wand boxes.

"Mr. Potter, I believe this to be one of the finest wands I have ever crafted. You had a surprising number of materials react to your magic, but fortunately I just received some experimental wand components from the colonies and decided to experiment a bit," the man said in a somewhat rushed voice.

"Alright… well what's in it?" Harry asked, confused at the wandmakers excitement.

"The core is actually something resembling a dual core, which was thought to be impossible to create. In the center of the wand, we have the tailfeather of an American thunderbird. These creatures have immense power, and can switch from a corporeal to ethereal form. As such, wands with a thunderbird feather core are skilled at transfiguration, though are somewhat temperamental and thus difficult to master. This feather has been soaked in Re'em blood, which is a rare, bull-like creature that roams on the American plains. It has enormous physical strength, and upon drinking Re'em blood, a wizard will temporarily be capable of indescribable acts of physical prowess. With this in your wand core, I expect the wand to be excellent at spells that affect the caster," Ollivander explained, carefully but with anticipation evident in his tone.

"And you're sure that the wand is… stable? Why are wands with two cores impossible and why does this one work?" Harry inquired, somewhat worried.

"Wand cores are always from magically powerful animals. Normally, placing pieces of two powerful animals in this close proximity while they channel magic causes the magics remaining from the animals to come into conflict. It is simply because the magic of a dragon, say, is inherently different from the magic of any other animal, even another of its own species. When magic is channeled through the cores, the remaining magics of the animals fight each other in a… violent manner. This causes the wand to rip itself apart and release all the magic contained within simultaneously. Wandmakers have been working for centuries to find two cores with similar enough magic to be compatible in a single wand, but with no success."

"Before we get into why your wand works, I'll need to give a little bit of information on the animals involved. During one of his trips to the Americas, Newt Scamander spent several weeks studying a thunderbird in its natural habitat. As it turns out, when a thunderbird consumes a magical animal, it not only utilizes the physical nutrients of the animal, but also their magic. The magic of the thunderbird, for a short time, is slightly tainted by the magic of the consumed animal. A Re'em, on the other hand, is well known for how powerfully its magic affects those who consume their blood. Now, when I receive shipments of wand components, I ensure that the recent history of each animal is accurately reported, so I can determine any potential variations that could affect the wand performance. The thunderbird that this tailfeather belonged to was scared away midway through a meal, which happened to be a Re'em. And, the Re'em blood in the wand is from the very Re'em that the thunderbird killed. Taking into account the nature of the two animals involved, it would be very difficult to find two components more magically compatible," Ollivander explained.

Harry's head was spinning. It was clear that this was some rather advanced magical theory, and Harry was having difficulty fully understanding the implications of what Ollivander had just said. He sighed, knowing that he would just have to trust that the wandmaker knew his craft. "Alright, that kind of makes sense," Harry said, even though it really didn't. "Can I see it now?"

"One last thing," said Ollivander. "The wood for your wand is from a black oak tree, native to central North America. The oak tree is symbolic of strength, protection, and luck. No other wood would have been strong enough, physically or magically, to contain the core, and the geographic similarity to the animals serves to bolster that connection."

As he said this, Ollivander stepped around the counter and moved directly in front of Harry. He removed the lid of the box and held it out carefully in both hands. "Mr. Potter, I present your wand. Black oak, thunderbird tailfeather, and Re'em blood, exactly eleven inches, unyielding. This wand will excel at transfiguration, battle magic, and defensive warding. Once earned, the loyalty of this wand will never be lost, though it may be a struggle to earn it." Finishing his short speech, Ollivander bowed and extended his hands towards Harry.

Harry peered down into the box and gasped. The wand inside was beautiful, more so than any of the wands he had tested yesterday. The wand was very dark colored, nearly black but not quite. It had a somewhat marbled appearance to it, with lighter colors where there had been knots in the original tree. The handle looked as if it had been attached to the wand, but upon closer inspection it was a single piece of wood, masterfully carved. The handle was fractionally larger in diameter than the shaft of the wand, with a beautiful depiction of a thunderbird swooping down on a large beast carved lightly upon the length of the wand.

Shakily, Harry reached a hand towards the handle. The instant his fingers brushed against the grip, his vision went black. He heard the crash of thunder, shot through with the fierce cry of a bird. Then galloping hooves, accompanied with a roar of pain and anger. In his mind's eye, he saw the frozen image of a massive, dark blue and black bird diving towards an enormous bull, rearing up on its hind legs, both of their mouths open in cries of rage and defiance. Just as suddenly, his vision returned, and he was surprised to find himself holding the wand in one hand before him.

Ollivander looked positively gleeful. "That was the strongest initial connection with a wand I have ever witnessed. I have no doubts that you will become a great wizard someday, Harry Potter. There is one more thing I must discuss with you, however. If you would…?" Ollivander trailed off, gesturing towards the back of his shop. Harry nodded wordlessly, and moved to the door hidden behind the towering shelves.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Harry and Ollivander were seated across from each other at a small table in Ollivander's work area, each with a cup of tea before them. As Harry sipped, Ollivander began speaking.

"When I first began examining the blood you left with me, I almost mistook your for that of a muggle. None of my diagnostic tools to detect ambient magic detected even an iota of power from your blood. However, I saw the power in you when we first met, and you did not fake that reaction to the last wand. I eventually modified one of my devices to detect magic upon contact, rather than random ambient magic."

"It was then that I found a rather… interesting difference in your magic compared to most witches and wizards. The majority of human magic is bound to their core. Channels are also developed through each limb, with the one through the dominant arm being the strongest, so magic can be channeled to their wand. However, with the exception of the core, the magic is never bound to the actual body of the magic user. Your magic, for some reason I cannot determine, is intrinsically bound to your actual body, including your blood. With effort, the magic can be drawn out of it, but it is weaker and cannot last long without constant help from your core. Not to mention, after a certain point, your magic cannot exist beyond a certain distance from you, without some source to latch onto."

Harry cut in before Ollivander could continue his lecture. "So that's why I can't perform magic at any range? I figured it was just an issue everyone had, and wands were used to do magic at a distance."

Ollivander looked surprised. "Magic? What magic have you performed without a wand?"

"Well there's this," Harry said as he held out his hand. Focusing, he created a small flame in the middle of his palm. He bounced it around a bit, then tried to toss it across the room, watching as it fizzled out after only a few feet. "No matter what I do, I can't keep the flame alive any farther away from me. Actually, I couldn't even do any magic outside my body until yesterday morning."

Ollivander was stunned. The boy before him was performing wandless magic with practically no effort, and he thought this was normal?

"Mr. Ollivander?" Harry said into the silence.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey everyone, I hope the chapter wasn't too boring, but I didn't want to leave anything too vague. Next chapter we'll explore Harry's unique situation a bit better.**

 **On another note, I've got a few questions for you all:  
** **Would you prefer longer chapters with fewer updates? Or should I maintain my current pace?  
If I reply to reviews, should I do it in author's notes each chapter or just PM the reviewer?  
Finally, what amount of detail do you guys want? In the early chapters (i.e., with the Dursleys) I skimmed over a lot, but in the last few chapters I've been fairly detailed. Which is better?  
Feel free to PM your responses, or leave reviews.**

 **Thanks a ton for the support everyone, this is my first fic and getting positive feedback really helps the process. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

Ollivander's mind raced furiously. The boy before him had just demonstrated magic that was beyond most fully trained wizards. While small bits of wandless magic were not uncommon, the amount of control Harry had just shown was beyond amazing for someone of his age. Not to mention the fact that fire was notoriously difficult to control beyond the most basic spells. This affinity was curious, but also worrying. He had already noticed many divergences between Harry's magical core and what was accepted to be normal for young wizards, but with each difference, Ollivander's ability to assist him waned.

"Mr. Potter, you must understand. Wandless magic is quite a rare skill, and many younger witches and wizards view it as a sign of extreme power, which is certainly not the case. Wandless magic is a demonstration of control over one's magic, not power. Though I have to admit, your control at your age is a source of concern," Ollivander spoke.

"Why would you be concerned with my control? Isn't that a good thing?"

"Normally, yes, but the core of a young magic user is supposed to be, to some degree, chaotic. This is what allows them to grow as they use their magic. The level of control you have over your core, while impressive, implies that it has stopped growing to some extent."

"Well that… doesn't sound good. Is there a way we can test your theory?"

Ollivander considered for a moment. "There is one test we could run. If we run a full scan of your core, we could get an accurate idea of what it looks like and how your magic is behaving. Though I have to tell you, it is an extremely personal procedure, since one's core is an extension of their soul... though I am willing to assist you with the procedure if you'd like," Ollivander explained.

"It doesn't sound like I have a whole lot of choice in the matter..." Harry responded.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Harry was seated on the edge of a stone table in the back of Ollivander's shop. According to the old wand crafter, it was used for lesser rituals, and the runes etched all over the surface were designed to amplify and focus the magic involved. Even with all of Ollivander's assurances, the soft red glow did nothing to ease his nerves.

"Are you ready? Again, I promise you this will not hurt, though it may be… uncomfortable," Ollivander spoke from behind a magical barrier erected several feet away.

"I guess so. Let's get it over with," Harry replied, clenching his fists next to him.

"Alright, just lay flat on the table and we can get started. And remember, don't resist the magic."

Harry swiveled and laid back, hands by his side. With a hum, the red glow of the runes intensified, and Harry could feel the magic become nearly palpable in the air around him. He looked towards his feet and saw a red mist float up from the table. It coalesced to the point of opacity, then slowly began moving towards the soles of his feet. He felt a tingle as it moved through his feet and began its journey to his head. The feeling intensified the further up his body it moved, growing to a peak near his sternum.

The sensation began to fade as the mist ran past his chest and into his neck. It grew once more, though to a lesser extent, as it came to his skull. Then, as the mist ran over the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, the tingling sensation become one of pain. It felt as if his skull had been split open at the seams, and liquid fire poured into the gaps. He gasped, unable to make any more sound since the air had already left his lungs.

And then nothing. The extreme pain that had been wracking his head was gone, just as quickly as it had come. He gasped air into his lungs, his limbs twitching slightly as he tried to recover.

"I thought… you said… it wouldn't hurt…"

* * *

After Harry had settled into a chair outside of the ritual room with a cup of tea, Ollivander sat across from him, heaving a heavy sigh as he did so. Harry gave him a light glare over the rim of his mug.

"No need to give me that look, Mr. Potter. That ritual should not have produced that effect, and I cannot begin to even imagine why it did. However, results were still collected, so we can look at those and perhaps discover the reason. We could do so now, or if you'd like we could wait until—"

"No," Harry interrupted. "Let's get all of this taken care of now."

"Very well," Ollivander replied. He grasped a stone tablet from underneath the table and hefted it onto the table with a grunt. On it were carved two identical depictions of a human body, though only outlines. Ollivander pressed his finger to a rune on the edge of the tablet, and one of the images lit up.

"This is what the magical core of a young wizard normally looks like. As you can see, the core is concentrated in the chest, with only a small amount of magic flowing through each limb. When a wand is used—," Ollivander pressed another rune, "—magic flows from the core into the wand arm, then into the wand." Light from the chest of the depiction moved from the chest, and down the arm.

"Now, let's take a look at your core." Ollivander pressed a rune underneath the blank body, and it began glowing, much brighter than the first image.

"Hmmm, let's see here… Now this is curious indeed…" Ollivander mused.

"Can you just tell me what is going on?" Harry asked.

"Certainly, certainly. Well, obviously, your core is no longer confined to your chest. It appears to have expanded to include your entire body, your magic existing in your limbs is no different than the magic in your chest, head, or indeed anywhere else." Ollivander pressed a few other runes surrounding the image, and the light filling the engraved body expanded past the outline, beginning as bright as the core within but fading quickly to nothing.

"Now this is interesting. Your magic has recently undergone a change, yes?" Ollivander asked as he inspected the tablet.

"Actually yes, two nights ago my magic went… haywire in the middle of the night. The next morning, I was able to perform what you call wandless magic for the first time," Harry replied.

"You couldn't perform magic at all until yesterday?"

"That's not quite right. I've been doing magic since I was six years old. But up until yesterday, my magic couldn't affect anything outside my body. I can manipulate myself, like increasing my strength or making my skin extremely hot or cold. Nothing I tried could ever actually affect anything except myself."

"Hmmm. That is quite interesting… it's as if something was blocking your magic. But why would it stop so suddenly? Maybe – no, that wouldn't do it. Perhaps a block? But that should have drained his magic, he wouldn't be able to use it…" Ollivander trailed off, looking into the distance. Harry coughed, and Ollivander started before looking slightly embarrassed.

"Errr, anyways, we should try to find out what happened at the end of the ritual." Ollivander moved his fingers quickly around the tablet, and the etched bodies disappeared, replaced by a single image of a head, much larger than before. "Let's watch what happened."

As Harry observed, a red line moved up the tablet, starting below the neck. Behind the moving line, the image lit up just as the bodies from before had. Then, as the line moved past where his scar would be, the tablet glowed… black, somehow. It was as if light in the area was actually being absorbed, instead of emitted.

"Now that is concerning. It almost looks as if there is a sieve in your head, draining your own magic. It is very slight, but still noticeable… May I?" Ollivander had withdrawn his wand from his sleeve and pointed it in Harry's general direction. Harry nodded.

Ollivander began to mutter under his breath, and a pale green glow connected his wand tip to Harry's forehead. Suddenly, Ollivander shot back in his chair and broke the connection. His eyes were wide, almost fearful. "By the gods… I can't believe… how is it possible?"

"Mr. Ollivander? What's happened? Are you alright?" Harry asked, worried.

"Mr. Potter… That magic in your head… it belongs to Lord Voldemort."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey everyone, hope you all had a good Christmas! Took me a few days to get back to writing, but I hope you enjoy this new chapter. As always, feel free to leave a review.**


	14. Chapter 14

"Voldemort's magic is inside of me? How is that even possible?" Harry asked. He was terrified, and angry. Until yesterday, he had never even heard the name, and even then, he had nothing to connect to it. Now, though, this monster had gotten into his own magic, the only thing Harry had ever known as his own. This could not stand.

"I assure you Mr. Potter, I have no idea. There have been cases of magic being temporarily infected by another's, but it was extremely temporary, lasting a day or two at most. For it to have lasted all these years… My first instinct would be to say that it is extremely powerful, but from my scan I know that it is not. Perhaps… resilient, would be the correct word. Yes, that is it."

"Can you… remove it?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Potter. It is bonded to your magic quite intimately. It appears to me that the only way to remove it would be to separate your magic from his and then eject it from your body. There is no spell or ritual to do that, you would have to do it yourself. Even taking your rather impressive magical control into account, I doubt even you could do that, at least at this point. Perhaps in a year or two. And I may be able to design something to do the actual removal. I don't mean to brag, but I am rather proficient at rituals, and something like this would do much to fill my free time."

"Okay… Is that it? His magic is why mine is acting… different?"

"Hmmm. Not quite. You remember how I mentioned that your magic had recently undergone a change?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "You see, your magic has a rather strong aversion to leaving your body. For some reason I cannot quite ascertain, until yesterday your magic absolutely refused to leave your body. This forced your magic to adapt to its situation, and now even though it is now able to leave, it prefers not to, and will likely not perform very well after it does."

"What? So I won't be able to do magic?"

"That's not what I said, Mr. Potter. Your magic will just behave… differently than it does for most others. But I can assure you, you _will_ still be able to use magic."

"Is there any way to fix it? Make it so it works normally?" Harry was in a panic. When he was younger, he had dreamed of being normal. Once he was made aware of the magical world, he thought that he would be able to be normal once he got there. Apparently, this was not to be the case. Not only was he a celebrity, but his magic was abnormal, too.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I want you to listen to me carefully. Many people will try to tell you otherwise, but I want you to remember my words. Magic is, by its very nature, unpredictable. Just having different magic does not make it abnormal. Your magic is, quite simply, your magic. Nobody else can tell you what is normal or right about your magic, only you can. I know earlier I was comparing you to a "normal" wizard, but that is simply the average. All magic user's vary from the average by some amount or another, and you just happen to be an outlier. It does not make your magic any worse or better," Ollivander spoke passionately.

Harry looked at the older man with a small measure of doubt in his mind, but the conviction that Ollivander had spoken with was hard to disregard. The man clearly had a lot of experience in magical matters, and had given Harry more assistance than anyone else had in his entire memory. Harry slowly began to nod, at first hesitantly, then with more strength. Ollivander smiled at the young boy, and turned the conversation to more pleasant topics.

"Now then, have you finished your shopping for school?"

* * *

Harry left Ollivander's store late that night, after a cup of tea had turned into dinner. The strange man had quickly become the person Harry most trusted, not that it meant much of anything, considering Harry had never truly trusted anybody, especially in the Muggle world.

With a soft _whoosh_ , a pale ghost settled on Harry's shoulder. He smiled as he turned towards his companion, who he had named Hedwig after much consideration. Hedwig nipped softly on his ear, as if to chastise him for taking so long, then rubbed her head on his as he walked back towards The Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Several weeks later, Harry walked down the stairs of The Leaky Cauldron, with a large trunk loudly banging on the steps behind him. Though his trunk was larger on the inside than the outside (which was still completely baffling to Harry), it did nothing to lighten the load, and his cauldron combined with his small library of books made it difficult to move gracefully.

He scraped the trunk along the floor and propped it up next to the bar. Tom shuffled out from the kitchen and grinned at Harry with a few teeth. A plate heavy with eggs, bacon, and sausage flew through the door behind him and skidded to a stop right in front of Harry, followed quickly by a fork and knife.

"Thanks, Tom," Harry said as he began to dig in.

"Not a problem, Mr. Evans, not a problem at all," Tom replied with a wink at the name. "Off to Hogwarts, then?"

"Sure am. Gotta be at King's Cross in… just under an hour. Oh, by the way, where is the platform? I can't imagine there being a platform 9 ¾ just out there…"

"Correct you are. You need to find the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, and if you walk towards it on the platform 10 side, you should go right through. If you're not sure, just show up a little early and watch, it'll be pretty obvious," Tom explained.

"If it's that obvious, won't everyone else see them too?"

"Nah, they've got layers upon layers of Muggle repelling wards and Notice-Me-Nots on that thing. Muggles won't notice a thing."

While Tom was speaking, Harry had polished off the remainder of his breakfast. Standing up, Harry said, "Well, I should be going, don't want to be late. Thanks for everything, Tom. I really appreciate it."

"Not to worry, young sir. I trust you'll stop in and visit next time you visit the Alley?"

"You know I will, Tom. Have a good year!" Harry shouted back as he moved back into the Muggle world.

* * *

After a short taxi ride, Harry was weaving through the crowds at King's Cross, dragging his trunk along behind him. Knowing she hated her cage, he had released Hedwig before leaving his room at the Cauldron, and placed her cage in his trunk. He knew she would either meet him on the train or at Hogwarts. Over the past month, Harry and Hedwig had formed a strong bond. Whenever he went into Diagon Alley, Hedwig would insist on accompanying him, and would wait patiently on the rooftops whenever he was inside. He didn't know how, but she had an uncanny ability to sense his emotions and current state of mind, often hopping over for a nuzzle whenever he was frustrated or upset.

Arriving at platform 10, Harry leaned casually against a pillar, watching the barrier where Tom had said the entrance was. Sure enough, barely a minute later, he watched a tall, dark haired man with his arm around a girl Harry's own age approach said barrier. With a quick glance around, they both continued forward and disappeared without a trace. Now sure of where to go, Harry walked to the same spot he had seen them disappear and put a hand forward hesitantly. His hand went through the bricks as if they were made of air. Shrugging to himself, Harry closed his eyes and stepped forward.

Opening his eyes, he was momentarily awestruck by the sight before him. A massive, bright red steam engine was sitting before him, with white steam billowing from its stacks. Behind it, passenger cars stretched around a shallow corner and out of sight. Somehow, magic was able to hid an entire platform within King's Cross, without the Muggles being any more aware of it. Harry shook his head with a smile on his face. He _loved_ magic.

Looking at the large clock hung on the wall, he saw that he still had nearly thirty minutes until the train left. Deciding to grab an empty compartment, he lugged his trunk to the nearest steps leading up to the train.

"Excuse me, would you like some help with your trunk?" Harry spun at the words, and came face to face… well, face to stomach, with someone. Looking up, Harry saw the same man he had seen walk through the barrier before him. His face was expressionless, though not cold. His piercing blue eyes sat behind slightly arched eyebrows, reminding Harry that he had been asked a question.

"Erm, that's alright, sir. I can handle it on my own. Thank you, though," Harry replied respectfully.

"Not even a featherweight charm? It will make putting your trunk in the racks much easier, I assure you," the man asked again. "Excuse me, where are my manners? My name is Damien, Damien Greengrass. My oldest daughter is starting at Hogwarts this year, though she already got on the train. Wanted to find a good seat, or something like that."

"It's good to meet you, Mr. Greengrass. My name is Harry, Harry Potter, and… er… yeah, I guess that spell would be pretty handy, sir," Harry replied, trying not to stumble over his words. Something about the man's eyes made him feel as though he could read his thoughts, a very uncomfortable sensation.

The man, Damien, flicked his eyes briefly to Harry's forehead, though too quickly for even Harry to notice. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. Here you are," Greengrass said, and tapped his wand against Harry's trunk. He could immediately feel the pressure on his arm decrease as the charm took effect.

"Thank you, sir. I really should get going, I want to get a good compartment," Harry said, belatedly remembering that the man's daughter had said the same thing.

Damien chuckled, as if remembering the same thing. "Of course, Mr. Potter. I wish you luck in your upcoming year at Hogwarts," he said, giving a brief smile and turning back to the barrier. He quickly vanished in the crowd that was beginning to develop.

Harry put the encounter out of his mind, knowing he had bigger things to focus on. In a few hours, he would arrive at a new school, one where he (hopefully) wouldn't be an outcast. Squaring his shoulders, he tightened his grip on his lightened trunk and stepped onto the train.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, happy new year! Sorry for how long this chapter took, I've had to focus on other things the last few days. Hope you enjoy the new chapter, and please leave a review with suggestions or questions or anything. Finally almost to Hogwarts!**


	15. Chapter 15

Harry moved quickly down the hallway in the train, glancing in each compartment as he passed in search of an empty one. He was already on the fourth car, and every single compartment had at least one student in it, usually several more. Finally, in the second to last compartment in the car, he found an empty one. Sighing in relief, he slid the door open and pulled his trunk in behind him.

He hauled his lightened trunk up to the rack above the seats. While he had certainly not needed the featherweight charm due to his ability to strengthen his muscles, he did appreciate the gesture. He made sure the trunk was secure, then slid the compartment door shut and pulled out a book on transfiguration. He had already finished reading the text for class, and though he didn't fully understand everything within, he wanted to learn more about the underlying process, not just how to do it.

Before he was even able to open to his bookmark, there was a tapping on the window. Harry turned and opened the window, and Hedwig flew in and landed on the bench across from him. He gave his companion a knowing glance, then cracked the book open and began reading.

According to this book, transfiguration had three main types. The most basic was changing the shape of an object without changing the material itself. This would be like changing a block of wood into a broom handle, or a chunk of marble into a bust. Next came changing the material itself into something else, like turning a match into a needle. The wood would truly become metal, not just look like it. The final and most complicated type of transfiguration was creating or changing living things. Not only did the materials themselves have to change, but life had to be either created or modified to fit.

The subject seemed insanely complex, but since it was taught in their first year, the basic stuff couldn't be too difficult. Deciding to try his hand at it, Harry took an owl treat from his trunk. He placed it on the bench next to himself, and reread the instructions. He was supposed to visualize the final product he wanted, jab his wand directly at the object to transform, and use the incantation _mutare_.

He drew his wand from the holster attached to his hip (a gift from Ollivander during a later visit to the shop) and focused on what he wanted the treat to change into. He jabbed his wand towards the treat, and firmly said " _Mutare!_ " He could feel his wand drawing the magic from his body into itself, and then expel the magic towards the treat. However, before anything actually happened, the magic snapped back into his hand without having an effect on the treat. Harry frowned, the book had said that a failed transfiguration would either partially transfigure the object, or the magic would dissipate entirely. What had just happened was neither of these, though. He felt his magic obeying his command and trying to transfigure the treat, but it hadn't happened.

This must be one of the side effects Ollivander had mentioned. Harry knew his magic had tried to transfigure it, but it hadn't been able to reach the owl treat. Maybe…

Harry picked up the treat and held it in his hand. Once again, he focused on what he wanted it to look like, and said " _Mutare!_ " This time, instead of jabbing his wand towards the treat, he jabbed it forwards and touched it with his wand. He felt his magic responding as before, and this time, it flowed directly from the wand into the treat. Before his eyes, it began to shift and warp, growing taller. When it stopped moving, he was left with an owl treat that looked exactly like Hedwig. Harry grinned at his success.

Now he wanted to try something else. He had not experimented a lot with his wandless magic while in Diagon Alley after Ollivander had told him about the Trace, and the magical government's ability to detect magic cast by underage magic users. He placed the mini-Hedwig in his palm, and focused on how the treat had looked before his first successful spell. He pushed his magic through his skin and watched in wonder as the owl-shaped treat warped back to its original shape.

He knew there was something different, though. The magic he used for the actual spell had been changed by his wand motion and the incantation, forcing it to do exactly what the spell intended. When he had done it directly, with his own magic, the magic didn't even change, just filled the object and forced the change. It also took more magic, so it appeared the wand was something of a precision tool.

As if growing bored with Harry's activities, Hedwig gave a short bark and bobbed her head towards the window, apparently satisfied that Harry was alright. Harry smiled and reopened the window, and the snowy owl hopped to the sill, then into the air. He then closed the window, and sat back down, considering his first real spell.

He was interrupted from his musings by a knock at the compartment door. He looked up, seeing a girl about his own age standing at the door, and quickly stood up and walked over. Sliding it open, she immediately began to speak.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger," she said, sticking her hand out towards him. He grasped it, quickly taking in her appearance. She was slightly shorter than him, with a head covered in a large amount of bushy brown hair. When she smiled, her front teeth were revealed to be slightly larger than normal. She was already dressed in the standard Hogwarts uniform (sans the house colors, of course). He refocused as she continued to speak.

"I've been looking for a place to sit, and this is the first compartment I've seen that wasn't completely full. Would you mind if I sat here?" She managed to say all of this in one breath.

"Er, sure, come on in," Harry replied, and shifted to the side to allow her to pass. She smiled quickly at him and pulled her trunk in behind her.

"Would you mind helping me with my trunk? It's rather heavy, I brought… a few extra books."

"Not at all," Harry said, and grasped the handle with one hand. He pumped some extra magic into his arm and easily hefted the trunk into the overhead racks. Hermione looked shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered and smiled at Harry, before sitting on the opposite bench, next to the window. Harry returned the smile, then picked up his book and began reading again.

The girl, Hermione, copied his actions with a book she withdrew from inside her robes. From the looks of it, it was a beginner's compendium of charms spells. Harry briefly considered asking why she was simply reading a list of spells, but reconsidered since it could be considered rude. He didn't know her, after all.

As the train got underway, the pair continued to read, filled with the sounds of turning pages and occasional rattle from the train car.

* * *

About two hours into the trip, they were interrupted by another knock on the door. Harry slid his bookmark into his book, then stood and slid the door open. Before him stood a boy, about Hermione's height, with sandy blond hair and a not insignificant amount of baby fat still on his face. He looked somewhat nervous, so Harry gave him a small smile, before saying, "Hi, there, how can I help you?"

"Um, hi, my pet toad, he escaped from his cage, and I was just wondering if you had seen it?" the boy asked.

"No, I haven't seen it. Would you like some help? We could each take a direction down the train, and maybe find it?"

"No, I actually started up at the front, so I can just keep working my way back. Um, thank you though, for your offer. Er, I'm Neville, Longbottom that is. I guess I'll see you at school?" the boy said, nervousness creeping into his voice.

"It's nice to meet you, Neville, I'm Harry Potter. If you'd like, I can come with you through the rest of the train and find your toad?"

Neville's face gained a somewhat awestruck look as Harry introduced himself, but began nodding as Harry continued speaking.

"Great! Let me put my book away, and then we can get started," Harry said. He grabbed his book from the seat where he had left it, then reached up and slid the book into his trunk. After flipping the lock closed and pocketing the key, he turned back to Neville. "Ready to go?"

"Uh yeah, sure," Neville mumbled, still apparently in some amount of shock.

As he walked out, Harry turned back to the compartment. "I'll be back soon, Hermione. Would you mind keeping an eye on my stuff?"

Hermione, her mouth still hanging open from Harry's introduction, nodded, and Harry slid the door closed.

* * *

"So, Neville, were you raised in the wizarding world?" Harry inquired as they moved through the train. Harry had suggested they skip the closed compartments for now, as a toad would have trouble getting through them, and if they had not found it by the end of the train, they could knock on compartments on the way back.

"Yeah, I was raised by my Gran at my family manor. Though, nobody thought I even had magic until a few years ago. My Uncle Algie, uh, dropped me out a window when I was eight. Fortunately I bounced when I hit the ground, and I guess that was enough to convince everyone." Neville's voice had trailed off as he continued speaking, as if embarrassed at sharing such a personal story.

"I actually didn't even know I was a wizard until I turned six. My, er, relatives, they're muggles, and didn't really know anything about magic. A bit of a shock for them when they found out," Harry said, heavily censoring his story. While he did appreciate that Neville had shared a rather personal detail, Harry was not yet ready to make his own past known to others.

Neville grinned slightly. "Yeah, I bet it was," he said, fighting a chuckle. "So, what house do you want to get into?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Bit shorter than last chapter, but I should be updating a lot in the next week or so, I've got a lot of free time on my hands. Also, wow, over 20k words. I honestly never expected to get this far. Thanks a ton to everyone who has reviewed _Unbreakable_ so far, all the encouragement is really helpful. And thank you to everyone who has followed or favorited it as well. Enjoy!**


	16. Chapter 16

Harry and Neville entered the last car of the train. They had no luck so far in finding Trevor, Neville's pet toad. Neville told Harry that Trevor had been a gift from his Uncle Algie after receiving his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, and was rather important to him as a result.

"Alright, Neville, there's one open compartment down there. We can check with them, and if they haven't seen him, we'll search again compartment by compartment," Harry said as they walked down the car, Harry in the lead. Neville just nodded, still slightly morose, but looking slightly more hopeful than he had at his arrival at Harry's compartment.

Harry softly knocked on the wall next to the sliding door, which was only partially open. A soft voice called, "Yes?" and Harry took it as his cue to push the door open the rest of the way.

The compartment was occupied by two girls, also first years, as evidenced by the lack of house colors on their robes. The one sitting on the left had light brown hair, with eyes to match. She looked tall, though Harry could not really tell since she was currently seated. She had a bright, if somewhat hesitant smile on her face, along with a questioning look at their arrival.

The other girl was currently piercing Harry with her stare. She had vivid, pale blue eyes that were partially hidden by a curtain of white-blonde hair. Her expression was less inviting than her friend's, but not unfriendly. From what Harry could tell, she was even shorter than Neville. She arched an eyebrow, as if waiting for someone to speak.

"Er, hello, my friend Neville and I were just looking for his pet toad. Have you seen one?" Harry spoke, realizing that Neville was not about to speak up.

The girl on the left spoke up. "Oh, this toad?" she asked with a smirk, as she lifted a cage from the floor behind her feet. "It hopped in here a little while ago, I figured I would give it to a professor when we got to Hogwarts, and fortunately Daph is good at conjuration. Here you go," she continued, passing the cage to Neville. "I'm Tracey Davis, pleased to meet you. This is my friend, Daphne Greengrass," she said, gesturing first to herself, then to her companion.

"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Harry Potter, and this is Neville Longbottom. We're both first years, I suppose you two are as well?" Harry spoke, extending his hand towards Tracey.

"Harry Potter? Wow, I knew you were starting at Hogwarts this year, but I didn't expect a visit on the train!" Tracey exclaimed, grabbing Harry's hand in her own and shaking it with a huge grin on her face. When she finally released his hand, Harry turned to the other girl Daphne, and offered it to her.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Potter. I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Daphne said softly, standing up and shaking his hand with a firm grip. Then she turned to Neville, and repeated the handshake and pleasantries.

"Well, thank you both very much for finding Trevor," Harry said, as Neville still seemed unwilling to speak. "I suppose we'll see you both at –" Harry was cut off by a loud and repetitive banging on the window. He groaned as he recognized the intruder. "Hedwig, what are you doing?" he asked in exasperation. The owl perched precariously on the narrow sill fixed him with a cold glare, as if daring him to continue on that train of thought.

"Um… you know this owl?" Tracey asked.

"Yes, she's mine… though I suppose if you asked her, I actually belong to her," Harry said grudgingly. In response, Tracey pushed the window open, and the white owl rushed in. She quickly settled on Harry's right shoulder, and cuffed the back of his head with her wing. "Look, Hedwig, I'm sorry I left, but you weren't exactly there for me to tell you," Harry complained. Hedwig responded with a nip to his ear, just barely soft enough to avoid drawing blood. "OW!"

The other three children in the compartment were unable to contain their mirth. Tracey was laughing harder than the others, tears leaking from her eyes as she watched the confrontation. Neville looked both amused and terrified, as he was within striking range of the angry owl. Daphne was the most composed, but was unable to stifle the giggle that slipped past the hand over her mouth.

Harry glared back at his owl, though he was clearly not truly angry. "That is _enough_ , Hedwig. It is not my fault you were gone, and you can't berate me for that." Hedwig huffed, then turned her head completely around and stared away from Harry.

"Well that was certainly… interesting," Daphne said, laughter still in her eyes. "If you are as good with other animals as you are with your owl, Mr. Potter, our magical creatures class will be entertaining, at the very least."

"I'm glad I could amuse you, then," Harry said as a blush crawled up his face. "Uh, Neville, you ready to head back?"

"Yeah, sure. Um, thank you both for finding Trevor, I really appreciate it," Neville responded, his eyes staying focused on the floor.

"It was not a problem, not at all," Tracey answered. "See you both at Hogwarts, then?"

"I'm sure we will. It was nice to meet you both," Harry said as he stepped back into the hall and slid the door closed.

* * *

A few minutes later, Harry and Neville had returned to Harry's original compartment, pockets filled with sweets from the snack trolley. Harry normally ate pretty healthily, but figured that one splurge wouldn't hurt, not to mention he had no idea what most of them were. Hermione looked up as the pair walked in, and immediately began speaking.

"Are you _really_ Harry Potter? I know all about you, of course. You're written about in several of my books. I'm so sorry I didn't ask for your name when I came in, that was incredibly rude of me. How many spells do you know? Have you actually fought a chimera? That seems a little unbelievable to me, I mean those things sound absolutely vicious."

Harry and Neville were momentarily stunned by the barrage of words. She had apparently been able to say all of that without taking a single breath, and was now looking expectantly at Harry.

"Um, yes, I'm really Harry Potter. And I can't say I remember fighting a chimera, though I've run away from a pretty angry cat once if that counts?" Harry said with a smile. A blush rose on Hermione's cheeks as she realized how she had come across. "No need to apologize," Harry said as she opened her mouth to speak. "It's alright, really."

Hermione shook her head quickly, bushy hair flying about. "Sorry about that, I just got rather excited. I've never met a celebrity before, and you're written about in quite a few of my books…"

"Don't worry about it," Harry replied, sitting back on the bench across from her. Hedwig leaped into the air and fluttered onto the racks above them. "Neville, this is Hermione, she's a first year as well." For his part, Neville smiled shyly at Hermione and mumbled a greeting.

"So, Hermione, Neville and I were just discussing the houses at Hogwarts. Do you have any opinions on them?"

"Well, from what I've read, it seems as if all of the greatest witches and wizards come from Gryffindor, so that's where I'm hoping for. Though I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be bad either. What about you guys?"

Harry turned to Neville, who looked flustered, but began to speak. "Well, I told Harry earlier, I really want to go to Gryffindor, but I'm not sure if I'll really fit in there… the head of Hufflepuff is a world renowned herbologist though, so maybe that would work out well," Neville said quietly. Harry nodded, having already heard this.

"Well, Harry? What about you?" Hermione asked.

"To be honest, I don't really mind where I end up. The traits that each house is known for are all positive, so I think I'll be alright wherever. Probably not Slytherin, though…"

"Good call, Harry, that's where all the dark wizards come from," Neville said nervously.

Hermione looked suspicious. " _All_ the dark wizards? I can't imagine that the school would just lump all of the future bad guys into one house. I mean, we're all just kids…"

Harry nodded. "I think you're right. I mean, I've met some pretty bad kids in school but I wouldn't say any of them are evil."

Neville remained unconvinced. "Harry, You-Know-Who was in Slytherin. So were all of his Death Eaters. And from what Gran has told me, all of their kids go there too."

Harry shrugged. "I guess we'll find out when we get to Hogwarts." He shrugged, and Hedwig fluttered up to the trunk racks. Harry took his book from his trunk, sat, and reopened to his bookmark. "You know, Neville, you could bring your trunk here if you'd like to sit with us. There's plenty of room."

"Yeah, I think I will. I'll be right back," Neville said as he moved back into the corridor and slid the door shut.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hi everyone, sorry about the (very) long break, it's been a rough semester so far, not to mention job and grad school applications. Things are calming down now, though, so hopefully I'll have more time to update. As always, please drop a review if you have any questions or suggestions!**


	17. Chapter 17

"We will be arriving at Hogsmeade Station in five minutes. All students, leave your trunks in the racks, they will be taken to your dorms separately."

Harry, Neville, and Hermione shoved their books back into their trunks, latched them, and straightened their robes. Moving to the window, Harry let Hedwig loose after telling her to find him later that night.

"Maybe we should wait for a few minutes? That way we won't get trampled by the older kids," Harry suggested. Neville and Hermione nodded, and sat back down. "So, Neville, did your Gran give you any tips about Hogwarts that we should know?"

"Er, yeah. McGonagall, she's the Transfiguration professor, is apparently real strict, and first impressions are really important. Gran said one year, a kid interrupted her on the first day of class, and she didn't actually forgive him until he graduated."

"That doesn't sound very professional," Hermione said, frowning. "Teachers shouldn't hold grudges for so long, it could hurt the student's performance."

"Lighten up, Hermione, you'll be fine as long as you don't do something like that," Harry said, grinning. "Hey, you guys want to see a spell?"

"You can do magic? Already? When did you learn? Won't you get in trouble?" Hermione asked, almost in a panic, stuck between excitement and fear.

"Relax, we can't get in trouble for using magic on the train, I must've seen a dozen of the older students doing magic just when I was getting on," Harry replied. "Do either of you have something small you don't mind losing?"

Neville fished a liquorice wand from his pocket and offered it to Harry. Remembering Ollivander's words that wandless magic was not a common ability, Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. Focusing on what he wanted to make, he thrust his wand towards the candy until his wand just touched it. " _Mutare_."

As before, he felt his magic flowing from his palm and fingers into the handle of the wand, twisting it together in complicated patterns he could not begin to understand, then expelled it into the liquorice. The red candy began to warp, losing its appearance as a wand. Hermione and Neville looked on with wide eyes.

When the transformation was complete, a small, red steam engine was sitting in Neville's palm. The detail work was not perfect, but it was still a very recognizable sight: the Hogwarts Express. Neville's jaw was hanging open, while Hermione's eyes were flickering between the candy and Harry rapidly.

"How did you do that?" Hermione demanded. "We haven't even had a class yet, and you're already doing magic? That could be dangerous!"

"Hermione, it's alright. I read all of the warnings in the book, and as long as your wand movements are clear there isn't any danger to anyone."

Hermione looked about to continue speaking, but was interrupted before she could. "We have arrived at Hogsmeade Station. All students, please exit the train as quickly and safely as you can," said the loudspeaker above their heads. Outside on the platform, Harry could see a veritable flood of black robed people moving towards a row of horseless carriages.

"Well, we'd better go. Don't want to miss the ride up to the school," Harry suggested. The three first years stepped out into the almost deserted corridor and quickly exited the train.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!" a deep voice proclaimed over the crowd. Harry and his new friends fought their way through the sea of students and promptly came to a halt at the sight before them.

The man before them was, without exaggeration, a giant. He stood nearly twelve feet tall, with a thick tangle of hair covering his head and face. Two cheerful black eyes glittered in the light from the station as he looked down at Harry. Looking out over the mob of children (all about a third of his height), he began to speak.

"Hello there, everyone! Name's Rubeus Hagrid, I'm the Keeper o' the Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts. A'right, let's head to the boats!" the man's voice boomed. He turned and took massive strides towards the shore of the nearby lake. "No more'n four to a boat!"

Harry, Neville, and Hermione stepped into one of the last available boats. Glancing around, Harry noticed another student standing alone as the others separated into groups of four. "Hey! We've got an open seat here!" Harry yelled towards him. The redhead, relieved, jogged over.

"Thanks, mate. For a minute I thought I was gonna have to swim to Hogwarts," he said as he sat down. "I'm Ron, Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry, and this is Neville and Hermione," Harry said as he shook Ron's hand. "We met on the train."

Ron shook hands with the other two, then turned back to Harry. "Any idea what house you guys are going to? I'm sure I'll be in Gryffindor, my whole family has gone there for generations."

Harry shrugged. "I don't really know. I mean, all the houses have good traits they're known for, so it doesn't seem like too big of a deal to me." As Neville and Hermione answered in turn, Harry looked up as he heard a soft hoot, and Hedwig glided down to land on the gunwale of their dinghy. Harry stroked her feathers absentmindedly as their boat pushed off the shore by itself and began to follow the fleet already on the water.

As they exited the small harbor they were in and turned, the school came into view for the first time. School didn't really do it justice; it was a castle. Standing on a hill overlooking the lake stood the single largest thing Harry had ever seen. Towers climbed hundreds of feet in the air, and a thick wall surrounded the entire castle. It had an air of majesty around it, and the lights shining from the windows into the dark sky only added to it. Eventually overcoming his awe, Harry glanced around to see every single one of his year mates with their jaws open, with looks of wonder in their eyes.

"'eads down!" shouted Hagrid from the front. There was no need, as the plants hanging down over the grotto entrance stopped nearly ten feet above the water. One by one, the boats grounded themselves on the gravel shore and the students disembarked. After everyone had found their footing on solid ground again, Hagrid nodded and started climbing the stairs in the back of the cave four at a time. The students rushed to keep up with him.

They eventually came to a landing in front of a set of massive wooden doors that even Hagrid could pass through with ease. He raised a fist and knocked on the door three times. After a short pause, both doors swung inward silently, revealing a tall woman in a pointed hat.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said, stepping to the side.

"Thank you, Mr. Hagrid. Follow me, please," McGonagall replied in measured tones. Harry, remembering Neville's words, hastened to follow her instructions. After walking through a cavernous entryway, they entered a small room. The new students filed in quietly, nervous in front of the intimidating figure of their new teacher.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," McGonagall began. "For the next seven years, this school will be your home. In just a few moments, you will join the remainder of the school in the Great Hall. First, however, you must be sorted into your house, which will be something of a family during your time here. The four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, each have an ancient and storied past, with their fair share of famous and powerful magic users. You will share successes, as well as failures, with your house. Now, please wait here quietly while I make sure the rest of the school is ready for you." She exited the chamber through a second set of doors, leaving a silent room behind her.

Silent, that is, until one voice spoke up. "What a load of tosh. I should think that the school would have admitted that Hufflepuff is just all the leftovers by now." Harry couldn't see who spoke, but the voice indicated a severely inflated ego.

Before anybody could reply to the comment, there was a scream from the back of the room. Harry spun, already charging his limbs with magic to enhance his strength, ready to leap into action. For a moment, he saw nothing. Then, upon hearing voices, he looked up in surprise.

"I say we give Peeves another chance. It's in his nature, it's not his fault he behaves the way he does," said a translucent man near the front of a crowd of what could only be ghosts.

"Kick him out, I say!" shouted another. "He's had enough opportunities. We should – I'll say, who are you?"

"These are the first years," announced McGonagall from where she had reentered the room. "Please, enter the Great Hall, the sorting will begin in a few moments," she said, and the ghosts continued on their way through the wall. When they were all gone, McGonagall turned back to the students.

"Follow me."


	18. Chapter 18

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was one of the most amazing things Harry had ever seen. The room was massive, filled with four long tables that stretched nearly the length of the room. At the front of the room was a shorter table perpendicular to the others, set before five stained glass windows overlooking the lake. Each was emblazoned with one of the four house crests, with the Hogwarts crest on the center one. However, the ceiling was easily the most eye-catching feature. Somehow, the ceiling of the hall looked exactly like the night sky, complete with wispy clouds and the occasional owl flying past. Chandeliers hung down from it, with the chains disappearing into the sky as they rose.

After overcoming their awe, the first years scuttled after McGonagall down the center aisle. They eventually came to a stop before the head table, before which a dirty old hat sat quietly on a stool. The hall descended into silence as McGonagall turned to face the student body. Next to her, the hat began to twitch, before a tear opened near the rim and it began to sing.

" _Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The older students burst into applause as the first years stared at the Hat, stunned. "I thought we had to fight a troll," Harry heard Ron mutter under his breath. Harry turned and grinned at him, and was about to reply when McGonagall spoke up once more.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool to be sorted. You will then join your house at their table," she said, unrolling a large scroll as she did so. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with a pink face and pigtails rushed up to the stool, trembling slightly as she sat down. When McGonagall place the Hat on her head, it sank down over her eyes, stopping just past her nose. The crowd fell into silence, anticipating the first sorting of the year.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat exclaimed into the silence. One of the tables in the middle with yellow ties and yellow trim on their robes erupted in cheers as Hannah Abbot passed the Hat back to McGonagall and scurried to the first open seat at the table. Two of the other tables clapped politely until she was seated, then silence fell again as the next student was sorted.

After several others, Harry heard a name that he recognized, and applauded as "Davis, Tracey!" was sorted into Slytherin. Soon enough, "Granger, Hermione!" was called up. Harry gave Hermione a slight nudge from where she stood beside him, startling her into action. She sat on the stool, and gave Harry one last panicked glance as the Hat slid over her eyes. The hall waited in anticipation as the time ticked by, first a minute, then five. The crowd was finally starting to become restless when "Ravenclaw!" burst from the Hat, and Hermione quickly moved to the end of the blue clad table. "Greengrass, Daphne!" was also a familiar name. Harry gave her a slight smile as her gaze passed over him, and she returned it before the Hat slid over her eyes as well. Moments later, she was seated at Slytherin next to Tracey.

"Longbottom, Neville!" was soon called, and was quickly sent to Hufflepuff. Finally, after what had felt like eons to Harry, McGonagall said "Potter, Harry!" Harry walked up to the stool, doing his best to remain calm even though he could feel his heart trying to pound through his ribcage. He sat on the stool, and McGonagall placed the Hat on his head.

" _Well, well, well, what do we have here?_ " a voice said directly next to his left ear. Harry twisted slightly, but could not see any feet on the floor.

"Are you the Sorting Hat?" Harry whispered as quietly as he could.

" _Indeed I am, pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter,_ " the Hat replied. " _I don't usually directly speak with students, but there are always a few each year. Now, Mr. Potter, there are some students that, quite simply, don't quite fit the nice little categories that the adults like to put all of you children into. So, you get to choose._ "

"Choose what?" Harry whispered back.

" _Your house, of course. From what I can tell, you know at least one person in each house so far except for Gryffindor, though I expect the youngest Mr. Weasley will end up there if tradition holds true. So, where would you like to go?_ "

Harry pondered the question for a few moments. He realized the importance of it, since he would spend the next seven years living with his choice. Finally, he came to a decision. "Put me where you think I'll do my best."

" _Very well, Mr. Potter. Good luck in…_ "

* * *

When McGonagall called Harry to the stool, silence fell over the hall almost instantly. The older students watched, transfixed, as the Hat slid over Harry's eyes. They waited with bated breath, as the Hat twitched back and forth. As his sorting approached the seven minute mark, the murmurs in the crowd began to increase in both frequency and volume. However, the voices dried up instantly as the Hat's lips opened once more, exclaiming "SLYTHERIN" for the school to hear.

In stark contrast with each of the previous sortings, there was no explosion of applause or cheers when McGonagall lifted the Hat from Harry's head. Instead, there was a collective gasp from the entire school. After several seconds, a polite, though subdued, round of applause sprang up from the green and silver table, dying away quickly. Harry walked to the table, feeling extremely self-conscious, and slid into a seat near the end of the table, still feeling the eyes of the entire hall upon him. McGonagall had to call the next name ("Rivers, Oliver") thrice before a boy rushed out of the crowd and up to the dais where McGonagall stood.

* * *

Harry kept his eyes down at the table for the remainder of the sorting, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone near him. Finally, as "Zabini, Blaise," was sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall picked up the stool and Hat and carried them to the end of the staff table. Dumbledore stood from his ornate chair, and Harry finally lifted his eyes from the table before him.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" he exclaimed, before retaking his seat. The crowd burst into one more round of raucous applause and cheers, and suddenly there was food on the table. More food than Harry had ever dreamed of, much less seen before. A vast variety of meats, vegetables, side dishes, and more lay on the table before him. His jaw dropped.

"What, never seen house elf magic before?" a feminine voice interrupted Harry's shock. He turned to the side, and saw that Daphne and Tracey had moved from their original seats and were now both seated to his left. The dark skinned boy who had been sorted last also moved up the table, and was now sitting across from the other three. "Harry, this is Blaise Zabini. Blaise, Harry Potter."

Harry lifted his hand towards the other boy, who shook it firmly, before turning his attention to the food laid out before them. With a grin he began taking small portions from practically every plate, eager to try out these new foods.

"What's a house elf?" Harry asked after filling his plate.

"A house elf is a kind of elf that's sworn loyalty to a family," Daphne responded as she scooped some potatoes onto her plate. "They have rather powerful magic, though they can't use it to harm humans unless they're defending their owner. Hogwarts employs a bunch of them to clean and cook the food."

"Only rich families can afford one, though," Tracey cut in. "I only know a few people who have them."

"Do any of you have a house elf?" Harry asked them.

"I do," spoke Daphne and Blaise simultaneously. They glanced at each other, then Daphne continued. "We've had our elf, Tripsy, since before I was born. They normally live pretty long lives."

Harry hummed in thought as he began to eat. The others also began to eat, and for a few minutes the only sound was the dull roar of conversation that pervaded the entire hall.

"You got quite the reaction when you were sorted," observed Blaise suddenly. "I think practically everyone assumed you would go to Gryffindor."

"Yeah, well, apparently I'm full of surprises," Harry said with something between a grin and a grimace. "Can't say I expected that reaction, though. Is there a reason Slytherin already seems to hate me?"

"Well, for some of them, I'm sure their parents sympathized with You-Know-Who. They probably told their kids all about how he was gonna fix the country and put Muggles in their place. I don't know if you know this, but Slytherin is sort of viewed as the house of pure-bloods. And recently, that's become the house of supporters of You-Know-Who," Tracey explained.

"Well, great. Just my luck that I would end up here where everyone already hates me," Harry groused to himself.

"Not everyone," Daphne said with a smile. "The more vocal people might dislike you, but I promise that most of them won't really care."

Harry turned to her and returned the smile. "So, who can tell me about all the professors?"

It was Blaise who spoke up this time. "The big one at the far end is Rubeus Hagrid. My mom said that he's half-giant, that's why he's so big. The next two are Sinistra and Babbling I think, they teach Astronomy and Ancient Runes, but I'm not quite sure which is which."

"The crazy looking one next to them is definitely Trelawney," interjected Tracey. She blushed as the other three turned to face her. "Sorry, she's just exactly how my mom described her. Anyway, she teaches Divination."

"The short one there is Flitwick, he teaches Charms," Blaise continued. "My mom said he was part-goblin, but she's not as sure about that one."

"Then we have Sprout, she teaches Herbology, and obviously Dumbledore. On the other side of Dumbledore, there's McGonagall, Snape, the Potions teacher, and Quirrell, who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. Then those two must be Hooch and Vector, they teach Flying and Arithmancy. And the guy on the end missing an arm is Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher," Daphne finished. "Snape is Head of Slytherin, Flitwick is Ravenclaw, Sprout is Hufflepuff, and McGonagall is Gryffindor."

Harry did his best to commit these names to memory, though he fully expected to forget a few. As he was looking along the head table, his eyes passed over the one with greasy black hair. He made eye contact with him for an instant, and immediately gasped as he felt a sharp pain in his forehead, right behind his scar. The teacher, Snape he thought, blinked rapidly several times, then pointedly looked away.

"Harry, are you alright?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied, briefly rubbing his scar. "The one next to McGonagall is Snape, right?"

"Yep. And from what I've heard, he's pretty partial to Slytherins in his class," she replied. Harry nodded, even as he continued to think over what had just happened. All of a sudden, all the food on the tables vanished, and Dumbledore stood from his seat again.

"Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you," Dumbledore spoke, his words piercing the quiet that settled over the tables. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore gave a pointed look to the Gryffindor table, though Harry could not see who he was looking at.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry gave a wary glance to his friends, who looked back at him with identical expressions of confusion. Shrugging, he turned back to the front.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Obviously, it's been a while. I don't plan on abandoning this, but updates will come whenever I'm inspired or have time. There are some lines in here that are direct quotes from JK Rowling's books, mainly lines from Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat's speech. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, etc., the support really makes it worth it. Hope you all enjoy!**


	19. Chapter 19

Harry walked out of the hall, his ears still ringing from the cacophony that was the Hogwarts school song. While practically none of the Slytherin students had partaken, the rest of the school had more than made up for their silence. Two of the Gryffindors, twins if he wasn't mistaken, had sung to an extremely slow funeral march that had gone on for nearly twenty seconds with just the two of them. Harry had been laughing hysterically by the end, along with Tracey, while Blaise and Daphne merely looked on with amused expressions. The school had been dismissed shortly thereafter, and Harry was now following the rest of the Slytherin first years to their dormitories.

Harry continued to look around in awe as they continued on their way. He saw a multitude of portraits covering the walls, most of which were looking back with equal curiosity, many of them whispering to their neighbors. Harry waved discreetly towards a portrait of a rather rotund man, which then proceeded to wave back with unbridled enthusiasm. Harry shot a grin to the portrait before passing through an archway leading to a descending staircase.

"Who were you waving at, Harry?" Tracey asked as they continued down into the depths of the castle.

"Just some portrait. I read about moving portraits in some of my books, but there are so many of them here!" Harry replied. Tracey smiled in return.

"At my house, we have pictures of my family going back over two hundred years. Some of them are pretty interesting to talk to, and it makes my family seem a lot bigger than it really is," Tracey told him. "I'll admit, though, some of them are pretty damn sexist," she added as an afterthought.

Before he could reply, the crowd came to a stop before a nondescript wall of stone. The prefect at the front of the group spoke, "Victory," in a clear voice, and several of the stones collapsed into each other, forming an archway in the wall. Harry followed his housemates through a narrow passage nearly twenty feet long, before they emerged into the Slytherin common room.

The room itself was deceptively large. One entire side was covered in arched windows that, apparently, looked out into the lake itself. The water was remarkably clear and illuminated, and several fish could be seen swimming past. Along the opposite wall was an impressive bookshelf, filled entirely with books from any imaginable genre. Another wall was dominated by several passageways that led to the dorm rooms. On the same wall the passage entered through was a massive fireplace, flanked by two large stone snakes halfway through a strike, and surrounded by a number of cushy green armchairs. The room was filled with a variety of tables, chairs, and couches, all decorated with numerous, yet tasteful, serpents.

The prefect instructed the first years to circle around the fireplace. The instant they had all found their place, one of the windows to the lake slid to the side, and Snape walked out of the dark passage revealed behind it. He swept through a gap that quickly formed between the students, and turned to face them, his robes swirling ominously around him as he did so.

"Welcome to the noble house of Salazar Slytherin," he began in a quiet, but commanding tone. "Slytherin has given rise to some of the most powerful and influential witches and wizards in the last millennia, and is one of the most respected names in the wizarding world. Your first duty in this house is to uphold the name of Slytherin. Those who fail to do so," here he leveled a glare at Harry, "will not enjoy the consequences. Public dissent is _not_ permitted. Any and all disputes will be settled here, either amongst yourselves or by me. And trust me, you do not want me to settle it. All first years _will_ walk with at least one other student at all times when outside the common room. I will not lie to you, Slytherin has a poor reputation in this school. You will be ridiculed, you will be an outcast, simply due to your sorting. Some members of the other houses will take a more… _active_ approach to showing their dissatisfaction. Avoid these situations where you can, but do not be afraid to defend yourselves."

Snape made eye contact with each of the first years in turn, then continued. "Present yourself well in classes and don't make a fool of yourself in public, and we won't have any issues. My office is the door down the hall, next to the portrait of Slytherin. If there is something you need that you absolutely cannot solve on your own, come and see me. Breakfast starts at 8:00 tomorrow, do not be late. Goodnight." Snape pulled his robes around himself as he turned back to the window he entered from. With a wave of his hand, it slid aside, then back into place as he strode through.

After Snape left, the prefect who had let them into the common room stepped to the forefront. "My name is Peregrine Derrick, I'm a fifth year Prefect. I'm also a Beater on the Quidditch team. First through fourth year dormitories are through the middle two arches over there, boys on the left, girls on the right. Between eight in the morning and eight at night, you can be in the rooms of the other gender, if you have _explicit_ permission, meaning they said aloud in the common room that you could come in. If you enter without permission, or are there outside of those hours, I guarantee that you will not like the consequences. First through fourth year, you will share rooms with one other student, and upper years get their own rooms. Feel free to make changes to the rooms, but they must be returned to their original state by the end of the year. Again, you will not like the consequences." Harry turned to Blaise, a questioning look in his eyes. Realizing after a moment what Harry was asking, Blaise gave a slight smile and nodded.

Noticing the yawns and expressions of exhaustion on most of the students faces, he decided to wrap things up. "Last thing. If, for some reason, you decide to break a school rule, just _don't get caught_. Any loss of points or detentions will be directly reported to Professor Snape, and he will certainly be… displeased. Remember, be at the Great Hall by eight." With that, Derrick pushed past them and ascended the stairs into the upper year dorms.

Once there were only first years remaining, a pale boy with platinum blonde hair shoved past Blaise and came to a stop in front of Harry. "Harry Potter. I am Draco Malfoy," he said, thrusting his hand forward expectantly. "I expect you'll be needing somebody to help you get started in the magical world. I can help you there." After a moment of consideration, Harry decided that he didn't need to make any more enemies today. He grabbed Draco's hand and firmly shook it twice.

"I would invite you to room with me, but Nott and I already talked about it," he said, nodding towards a tall, skinny boy with dark hair. Nott completely ignored Harry. "Anyways, I'll be seeing you all in the morning," Draco finished, and walked towards the boys' dorms, with Nott and the two massive first years in tow. A skinny girl with dark hair and a tall heavyset girl walked to the girls' dorms. Harry and Blaise turned to Daphne and Tracey.

"Well," Daphne said, "I guess we'll be seeing you tomorrow. Goodnight," she said with a smile, then linked arms with Tracey and entered the girls' dorms as Harry and Blaise said "Goodnight" in unison. Then, the two remaining Slytherins followed their peers into the dorms.

* * *

"Wow," Harry said. "I wasn't expecting a five-star hotel, but this is a little ridiculous," he said as he looked around the room. There wasn't much to see. Two four poster beds in opposite corners, a dresser at the foot of each, and a desk between them was the entirety of the provided furnishings. On the plus side, there was a small bathroom for only the two of them. "Looks like we'll have to do some decorating of our own once we know how," Harry said to Blaise.

"It doesn't matter too much right now, I'm pretty exhausted," Blaise replied, flopping unceremoniously onto the bed on the right. As he did so, there was a dull crack, and a trunk appeared next to his dresser. "Huh. I was wondering when that would show up," Blaise said, standing and beginning to rummage through it. Harry cautiously sat on the other bed, and watched as his own trunk popped into existence just as Blaise's had. He hopped off the bed and pulled his pajamas, as well as his Transfiguration book, out of the trunk. Tossing the book on his bed, Harry entered the bathroom and quickly changed into his pajamas. He then hung his robe next to his dresser and his underclothes into the nearby basket.

He had just cracked his book open when he shot up, eyes wide and slightly panicked. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked as he exited the bathroom.

"I forgot about Hedwig! Oh, man, she's gonna kill me tomorrow. I knew I was forgetting something," Harry groaned.

"Who's Hedwig?" Blaise asked in confusion.

"My owl," Harry replied, dreading how she would take revenge on him come morning.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Here's another chapter. Quick turnaround, I know, but I had a bit of inspiration. A little on the short side, but this felt like a good place to end it. Hopefully, my chapters will be getting a bit longer now that classes are beginning. As always, thanks to anyone who reviews or favorites, it all helps.**


	20. Chapter 20

Harry and Blaise awoke the next morning to the incessant ringing of an alarm clock. Eventually, Blaise had enough, and pushed it onto the floor. Harry, who until now had still been half asleep, jumped up when he heard a quiet cry of "Ow!" The voice was clearly not Blaise's, so Harry looked around warily, trying to find the source of the cry.

"Oi! Down here!" Harry looked down, and was shocked to see the voice had come from the _alarm clock_. "Would you mind putting me back up there? I'd do it myself, but I don't have legs, you see?"

Nodding in shock, Harry reached down and put the clock back in its rightful position on Blaise's desk. The clock somehow nodded at him, though how it managed that without a chin Harry couldn't be sure, and then a small funnel extruded from the side facing Blaise. The clock swelled up, then let out an incredibly loud tone not unlike a foghorn directly into Blaise's face.

"Who—wha—huh?" Blaise said eloquently as he shot up in his bed.

"Apparently it's time to get up," Harry said with amusement as he walked to the bathroom.

* * *

Forty five minutes later, Harry and Blaise were seated across the Slytherin table from Daphne and Tracey, who had left the dorms before them. It was only seven fifty, so they had made it with time to spare.

"How are your rooms?" Harry asked the two girls.

"They're fine, I suppose. Maybe a little under furnished, but that's for us to take care of," Daphne responded. "Yours are the same? Just a bed, desk, and dresser?"

"Yep," Harry returned. "I think we'll have to do some research on how to make our rooms more comfortable."

"Research? Harry, we haven't even had a single class yet. Why are you using such nasty words?" Tracey asked with a yawn. Harry was about to respond, when the massive clock in the school chimed eight times, signaling the start of breakfast. Looking around the hall, Harry was nearly certain that there were some first years missing from Slytherin, and many from the other houses were nowhere to be seen. He did, however, sight Hermione speaking to an Indian girl at the Ravenclaw table, and Neville sitting near a boy with dark, curly hair at the Hufflepuff table. He waved to each of them, and received one back from both, though Neville's looked somewhat nervous.

The instant the bells had stopped ringing, Snape began sweeping down the Slytherin table, passing out schedules. He paused, giving Harry a sharp look before handing him his schedule and moving on down the table. Harry glanced over it as he scooped some eggs onto his plate.

"Great, Potions first thing. Did you know that Snape is the youngest Potions Master in over two centuries? I bet he's a great teacher," Blaise spoke up.

"I dunno, it seems like he already hates me," said Harry. "Looks like we won't be learning any actual magic until this afternoon. Charms and Transfiguration should be fun though."

"Who do we have Potions with?" Tracey inquired with a mouth full of bacon.

Blaise groaned as he looked over the schedule. "The Gryffindors, of course. This should be fun. I heard on the train that the Gryffindors and Slytherins always try to sabotage each other in Potions, by throwing stuff in each other's cauldrons."

Tracey looked nervous. "Isn't potion-making supposed to be, like, really dangerous? Even without people trying to sabotage you? My mom said that sometimes you can accidentally make a potion explode just with a simple mistake or mistiming."

"I guess we'll have to sit as far away from them as possible," mused Harry. "What classes is everyone looking forward to the most? Transfiguration for me."

"Potions for sure," Blaise answered. "Don't tell anyone, but I've actually made a few already at home with my mom. She's not a Potions Mistress, but she knows her stuff."

Tracey replied next. "Definitely Charms. There's just such a variety of stuff you can do, it just seems the most useful. What about you, Daph?"

"Well, the classes I'm really excited about aren't offered until third year, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. So I guess I'll go with Charms as well, since it's so applicable to Arithmancy," Daphne answered.

Just as Harry was about to ask what Arithmancy was, the noise of the entire hall was drowned out by the arrival of dozens of owls swooping in through a window above the staff table. Most of them were carrying today's Daily Prophet, though a few were carrying letters. Harry paled as he heard one cry above the others, and saw a pure white owl dive directly towards him.

"OW! Hedwig, stop—Ow! Look, Hed, it was an accident—Ouch, please, I promise it won't happen again!" Harry begged as his owl nipped at his ears and cuffed his head with her wings after landing on his shoulder. His friends looked on in a combination of shock and amusement as Hedwig continued to berate Harry. "Here, Hed, you can have my breakfast!" At that, Hedwig immediately ceased her attacks and hopped to the table, quickly scarfing down all of the bacon on Harry's plate. Harry sighed in relief.

"Wow, Harry, you said she would be mad last night but I wasn't expecting that," Blaise sniggered. "Quite the owl you have there."

As if she could understand the sarcasm in his tone, Hedwig levelled a stern glare directly at Blaise. Seeing this, Blaise quickly returned his gaze to his own plate. After a few seconds, so did Hedwig.

"Where did you find her, Harry? She's beautiful," Daphne asked. "Can I pet her?"

"Got her at Eeylops, in Diagon Alley. Go ahead, it's not you she's mad at," Harry replied, still rather peeved at Hedwig's public dressing-down.

A few minutes later, Harry had managed to find another plate of bacon and continued his breakfast now that Hedwig was distracted. "So, what's Arithmancy?"

"It's kind of a way to break spells apart into math, so you can see the components of the spell and how it works. There's a lot more to it than that, but I haven't learned much of it yet. I know that it's really important for creating new spells, though. For your NEWT in Arithmancy, you actually have to create your own spell," Daphne lectured.

"Does that only work for charms, or can it work for any type of magic?" Blaise inquired.

"I'm not positive, but I think it can be for any type of spell. I haven't read if you can use it for runes or potions, but I'm not quite sure how you would," Daphne answered slowly. "For spells, you cast it at a specially prepared piece of parchment, and it translates it into the equivalent Arithmantic sequence. I don't know how you would do that with a runic scheme or with a potion." While she was speaking, the clock began to chime nine o'clock.

"We should probably head to Potions, since we don't know exactly how to get there. It looks like there's some directions on the back of our schedule, though," Tracey said. The group stood up, grabbed their book bags, and left the Great Hall.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Harry, Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise were all leaning on the wall near the door to the Potions classroom. It was locked, but Harry was confident that he could now find this room fairly easily. They were discussing how they expected the first class to go when a group of students turned the corner at the end of the hallway. After a glance, they were revealed to be Slytherins, evidence by the green trim of their robes.

"Good morning," greeted Draco as he approached. Turning to the group he arrived with, he began introductions. "This is Harry Potter, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis." Turning back to Harry's group, he continued. "This is Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle." Harry stepped forward and shook everyone's hands, though Parkinson and Nott seemed rather reluctant to do so. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to simply go through the motions, not understanding or caring who they were meeting.

"We would have been here sooner, but Crabbe and Goyle really didn't want to leave the table," Draco joked. "Not to mention they were late to the table, too. Professor Snape was not happy. They both have detentions already." Goyle grunted in agreement. Just then, another group of students turned the corner. This group was much louder, and were dressed in red trim. A sneer appeared on Draco's face almost instantaneously.

"Looks like the Gryffindorks finally decided to show up. Get lost on the way down?" Draco asked, smirking as he did so. Two Gryffindors pushed to the front of their group with scowls on their faces.

"Surprise, surprise, Malfoy ended up in the house of snakes," Ron said. "Who would've thought that the kid of a Death Eater would go there. Gotta say, though, Potter, I'm surprised at you. I thought you were a decent sort in the boat on the way over the lake, but clearly I was wrong." Harry was surprised at the amount of vitriol in his voice. He had been nothing but polite to Ron, but apparently just being sorted to Slytherin was enough to make Ron hate him.

Before he could respond, the door to the classroom slammed open behind him, and silence fell in the hallway. Turning, they saw Snape standing in the doorway. "Inside," he said in a quiet but firm voice. The Slytherins filed in first, filling up the desks on the right side of the classroom. Harry sat next to Blaise in the front right corner, with Daphne and Tracey seated right behind them. The Gryffindors filled in from the back row, only reluctantly sitting in the front after the others had filled up. Harry and Blaise took their books and spare parchment from their bags, along with quills and an inkpot.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Finally getting to some classes, and we can see some real magic! If I ever get to third year (I hope I do), I'm hoping to put my own spin on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, since they're usually skimmed over like they were in canon. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	21. Chapter 21

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape said in a quiet voice. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" His voice trailed off into the silence of the classroom, every student hanging on his every word. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death."

Snape cast his gaze about the classroom, as if ensuring the complete and utter attention of each student was on him. Finally, he locked eyes with Harry. "Mr. Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry thought for a moment, thinking back to when he read the first few chapters of his Potions textbook while living at the Leaky Cauldron. "The Draught of Living Death, I believe, sir. A powerful sleeping potion," he finally answered confidently.

Snape's left eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch. "Indeed. Five points to Slytherin. Weasley," he said as he shifted his gaze to the other side of the classroom, "where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Erm… a potion cabinet?" Ron responded weakly, adding "sir" as an afterthought.

Snape's lips twitched downwards, clearly not pleased with his disrespectful answer. "I suppose it would be too much to ask for you to have touched your book before coming to this classroom, Mr. Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor. A bezoar is a stone that can be found in the stomach of a goat." By now, Snape had circled back around to his desk, and he glanced briefly down at a sheet of paper on his desk before returning his gaze to the class. "What is the difference, Ms. Patil, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

An Indian girl who looked exactly like the one Hermione had been speaking to earlier in the morning replied, "I believe they are the same plant, sir," in a nervous voice.

Snape nodded in approval. "That is correct, it is also known as aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" Several of the Gryffindor students rushed to do just that, while all of the Slytherins (excluding Crabbe and Goyle) had already done so.

"Your assignment before all future Potions classes will be to read one section of the appendix of _Magical Drafts and Potions_. These will outline how various reagents will interact with each other, and how different actions you take during the brewing process will affect your potion. If you keep up with the readings, you should have no trouble with the assignment for that day. Your potion for today, the Boil Cure potion, has no complex reactions and so should be simple as long as you follow the directions, which are now on the board," Snape said as he waved his wand in a wide sweep behind him. A list of steps appeared on the chalkboard behind him.

Harry turned to Blaise. "How about you go grab the ingredients, and I'll get the cauldron set up?" Harry half instructed, half asked. Blaise nodded, and moved to the ingredient cabinet. Harry, meanwhile, set up a small pile of tinder in the small compartment of the table underneath where the cauldron was settled. Poking it with his wand a few times, it caught fire, and then flared up into a merrily burning flame, even though it had no discernable fuel source. Harry twisted a small knob and adjusted the flame so it was large and red, lapping around the entire base of the cauldron.

Blaise returned with an armful of ingredients, and placed them carefully on the bench, neatly separated and placed in the order they would be added to the cauldron. Harry nodded in appreciation, and raised his hand for Snape as instructed on the board. Conveniently, he was already at the table behind them with Daphne and Tracey, and after a cursory glance at their ingredients, he pointed his wand into the cauldron. Water spewed out until the cauldron was about half full, then stopped abruptly.

Harry murmured "Thank you, sir," to Snape, who simply turned and went to Draco's table to do the same thing. "Alright, so we start by letting the water come to a boil, then we add 10 grams of dried nettles. Do you want to start weighing them and I'll get the snake fangs ready?"

* * *

The four Slytherins sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for lunch just before noon. After Potions had been Herbology, which was mind-numbingly boring in Harry's opinion, though it had just been the first class to be fair.

Harry's and Blaise's first Potions class had gone well, as far as Harry could tell. The potion had the lime green sheen that was described in the book, and had taken almost exactly as long to make as it was supposed to. There had been a commotion partway through the class when the cauldron Ron and another Gryffindor named Finnegan had been working on melted, drenching the two boys in a dark green mess. Angry red boils had sprung up on all of their exposed skin, and Snape had been forced to send them to the hospital wing.

After turning in a vial of their potion, Snape had waved them from the classroom. Daphne and Tracey had finished shortly thereafter, and the four had walked to their next class, Herbology, on the grounds together. They had entered greenhouse one at Professor Sprout's behest, then been treated to a rather long safety speech, then proceeded to trim the leaves of a Shrivelfig plant. There had been no magic involved, and while it was an important plant for potions, it was rather dull to work with.

"What a morning!" Blaise remarked. "First we got to cure boils, then cut some leaves. It doesn't get any better than that!"

Daphne gave Blaise an annoyed glare. "I think we all know that Monday mornings are going to suck."

Tracey was practically bouncing in her seat. "But we have Charms next! This is so exciting, I can't wait to see what we're learning first."

"Well, if we're going based on the book," Harry answered, "we'll start with the Levitation Charm. Sounds pretty straight-forward, but I guess we'll see."

* * *

"Alright, everyone, repeat after me," said Flitwick from his stack of books in the center of the classroom. " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" repeated the class dutifully.

"Wonderful! Now remember, swish and flick! Off you go!" Flitwick said as he hopped off the stack. "Now, you may begin practicing, but just remember to be careful of where you point your wand. Raise your hand if you have any questions." Harry and his three friends were seated along the wall on the right side of the semicircular classroom. At Flitwick's say so, they all began attempting the spell.

Harry, eager to try some magic again, grasped his wand and performed the exact motions that Flitwick had demonstrated. After he was confident in his motions, he flicked his wand directly at the feather before him and firmly said, " _Wingardium Leviosa_." He felt his magic respond, being pulled from his arm, up through his hand, and into his wand. Once there, it was twisted before being expelled towards the feather. Just as on the train, though, the magic then projected a short distance from his wand before coming to a stop, then snapped back to his hand. Harry frowned. If this trend continued, he would end up severely hindered in practically all of his classes.

Trying again, this time Harry finished the flicking motion right next to the feather. This time, his magic managed to make it the whole way to the feather, and swirled around it. The feather immediately shot upwards, breaking its connection with his wand as it rose. After the connection broke, it rose softly for a few more seconds, before stopping and descending slowly. Harry could sense that the magic imbued in the feather was expended at a constant rate until none remained, ceasing the effects of the spell. Rather like a battery, after the connection broke it drained until none remained. Coming out of his thoughts, Harry looked around to see Blaise staring at him in surprise.

"What?" Harry asked.

"That was… fast," Blaise commented sarcastically.

"He said to get started, didn't he?" Harry asked, worried he had started too early.

"Yeah, he did, but it's literally only been, like, a minute. Most people barely have their wands out," replied Blaise. "I only got a chance to try once, and mine only twitched."

"What are you talking about, Blaise? It's not that bad," Tracey's voice came from the other side of Blaise. Blaise turned, and his jaw dropped when he saw Tracey's feather floating gently about five feet above the desk. She slowly guided it in a small circle by moving her wand, then slowly brought it back down to the desk before her.

"How on Earth did you do that?" Blaise asked, his normal composure entirely gone.

"Why don't you give it a try?" Tracey said. "Maybe I could give you a pointer or two."

"Okay, here goes… _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " Blaise said, flicking his wand to the side, then back at the feather. Instead of levitating, it simply twitched upwards briefly, then fell back.

"Your first motion is a flick, not a swish," Tracey pointed out. "You want a softer motion first, then the second flick is quicker."

"Like this?" Blaise asked, demonstrating once more. Tracey simply nodded. Blaise repeated the motion, incanting " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," as he did. This time, the feather smoothly lifted from the table and followed the motion of his wand. Blaise grinned in victory as he guided the feather around the area, then back to the desk. "Magic is awesome."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Finally, getting to some magic! I'll most likely explain the first of each class in some detail (excluding Herbology and History), then probably skip forward a week or so to get the story moving a little bit. I'm looking forward to getting into more detail about how magic works, too, though unfortunately I feel like a lot of my plans can't really pan out until we get to the upper level classes. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Thanks again to everyone following and reviewing!**


	22. Chapter 22

After Charms, Harry and his friends walked together from the third floor to the first, heading towards their fourth and final class of the day: Transfiguration. This was the class Harry was most looking forward to, since he had already practiced a small amount. The Transfiguration Professor, McGonagall, intimidated him somewhat, but he was determined to perform better than he had in Charms.

"So, Harry, why are you looking forward to Transfiguration?" Daphne asked. "You figured out the levitation charm pretty fast, even if it looked like you had some trouble controlling it," she continued, a puzzled look on her face.

"Mainly because Ollivander told me that my wand would be good at it," Harry answered quickly before Daphne could ask about his difficulties. "Also, I may have already transfigured something on the train. It didn't seem too hard, but there's just so much that you can do with it."

Blaise pushed open the large door on the side of the courtyard and the four walked into the classroom. It was a fair amount larger than the Charms classroom, with four rows of desks rather than the semicircular layout. There was a heavy desk at the front of the classroom with a neat stack of parchment, a quill, an inkpot, and a tabby cat with rather peculiar markings on its face. Tracey led the group to the front row, and they slid into the desk on the left side of the classroom. The rest of their classmates soon filed in behind them. Once every student was seated, the cat on the desk stood, stretched, then leaped into the air. Midair, the cat warped, grew, and suddenly Professor McGonagall was standing before them. The majority of the class stared in awe, jaws wide open. Harry was no exception.

"Transfiguration," she began, "is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone fooling about in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." There was not a sound in the classroom, as every student tried their utmost not to annoy her. "Observe," she then said, and turned to face her desk. With a flick of her wand, the desk was suddenly replaced by a large pig. The animal looked up and turned its head towards the class, but was just as suddenly reverted back to a desk. "Transfiguration of this scale will not be taught until at least your fourth year. We will begin with very simple transfigurations, simply changing the shape and color of objects. Please copy the notes on the board," she said, and a very neat scrawl appeared on the chalkboard behind her with a lazy swish of her wand.

Thirty minutes later, Harry's hand was beginning to cramp from all the notes. McGonagall clearly took her subject incredibly seriously, as the vast majority of what he had written was safety concerns. While he remembered having read them before, he still wrote them down to stay on McGonagall's good side. He sighed in relief when she instructed them to clear their desks.

"The first transfiguration you will perform will be to make this matchstick look like a needle," she began. "You will use the spell _mutare_ , which, as we just covered, is for changing something into a different shape and color. Note that I said that it will just _look_ like a needle, since it is still made of wood. We will not be performing this type of transfiguration until at least after the New Year." As she spoke, a gentle wave of her wand distributed a neat pile of matchsticks from her desk so that there was one before each student. "You may begin. Raise your hand if you have any questions."

Harry stared at the matchstick. Recalling how he had transfigured the owl treat on the train, he firmly said " _Mutare_ ," while picturing a needle in his mind's eye, and lightly poked the match. He felt his magic twist inside the wand, before enveloping and permeating the match. It slowly grew to a point, and the color gradually changed from tan to silver. After a few seconds, he had what appeared to be a needle laying on the desk. Picking it up, he felt how it was clearly still made of wood.

"What. The. Bloody. Hell," a voice interjected right next to Harry's ear. Blaise was leaning over, and was shocked by how quickly Harry had accomplished their assignment. "It's literally only been thirty seconds. You know we're supposed to be working on this spell for the next two class periods, right?"

"Sorry," Harry said with a grin, "it's just that I've done this spell before so I know how to make it work."

"Ten points to Slytherin, Mr. Potter. Well done," McGonagall said as she walked up to their desk. "Since you've completed the task, you have no homework today. You may move on to future assignments, or help your classmates." Harry nodded as she moved on, then turned to his friends who were looking at him expectantly.

"Well? Are you gonna show us how to do it?" Tracey asked impatiently.

"Why don't you show me what you can do so far?" Harry responded.

Tracey gathered her thoughts, then jabbed her wand towards the matchstick while saying, " _Mutare_!" One end of it twitched, growing slightly elongated, while the rest of it gained a slightly metallic sheen. When it was done, however, it was decidedly still a match. Tracey glared at the match, before looking back at Harry expectantly. "Well? What am I doing wrong?"

"Hmm. Your incantation and wand motions seem fine… What are you thinking of when you cast it?"

"Um, turning the match into a needle? What else would you think of?" Tracey replied.

"From what I've read, you really just need to have a strong mental picture of what you're turning it into, not so much the change itself. If you think of a match changing into a needle, you're actually getting the idea of a match mixed up with the needle, so you end up with a combination of the two," Harry explained.

"That… actually makes a fair amount of sense," Tracey said thoughtfully. " _Mutare_!" This time, one side of the match grew to a sharp point, while the entire thing turned a light gray.

"Great! Now you just have to focus a bit more on the color next time," encouraged Harry.

While Tracey was practicing, Daphne, who had been listening carefully to Harry's explanation, had managed a nearly perfect transfiguration. With a smirk, she turned and began helping Blaise with his spell.

* * *

The group left the classroom after an hour, and they had all managed to successfully transfigure the match by the end. They had decided to head to the library so they could get a head start on their first Potions' assignment, on Daphne's advice.

"Do we have to do this now?" Blaise complained. "It's literally been less than a day and I'm exhausted. We could just do this tomorrow…"

"We really shouldn't put this off," Tracey replied. "I know Snape is lenient to Slytherins, but he won't like it if we rush our work at the last second."

"Besides, this way we can at least get a feeling for where the library is and how it's organized," Harry said. "We probably won't get a whole lot done."

"Harry! Wait up!" Turning, Harry saw Hermione and Neville hurrying towards him.

"Hey guys! How was your first day of classes?" Harry asked when they caught up.

"Charms was absolutely amazing, I mean making something fly? It's incredible! Herbology and Potions weren't the most exciting things ever, but still really interesting! And Defense was pretty interesting. Professor Quirrell knows what he's talking about, even if his stutter can be… distracting occasionally," Hermione rushed out in a single breath. "Uh… who's this, Harry?"

Belatedly, Harry realized that Hermione had never met any of his friends from Slytherin. "Oh, this is Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and Blaise Zabini," he said, indicating each of them in turn. "Guys, this is Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom." The group exchanged a series of pleasantries and handshakes, before Harry continued. "We were just gonna head to the library and get a head start on the Potions' assignment. Want to come with?"

Hermione began beaming at the mention of the library. "Sure!"

Neville just nodded shyly, clearly not fully comfortable with the group of Slytherins. The group continued down the halls, eventually finding the massive wooden doors leading to the library. With a shove, Harry pushed both doors open, revealing a seemingly endless room filled from floor to ceiling with row upon row of bookshelves. With a possessed look on their faces, Hermione and Daphne walked forward as if in a trance, and quickly disappeared into the shelves.

"Uhh… I guess we should find a table?" Blaise asked the rest of the group.

"Yeah, they'll find their ways back eventually," Tracey said, and led them to the nearest cluster of tables.

* * *

Just as Tracey had predicted, Hermione and Daphne had returned to the group after about ten minutes, each carrying a stack of massive tomes. Sliding one to each of them, Hermione had explained how these texts were advanced potions books detailing uses for nearly every important ingredient used in Potions. While nobody had finished the assignment, they had all finished the necessary research and written the majority of their essays. However, dinner was about to start, so they returned the books (Hermione had to be torn away after seeing how they floated back to their proper spots automatically) and headed back to the Great Hall. Harry said goodbye to Hermione and Neville as they returned to their tables, and the rest seated themselves at the end of the Slytherin table just in time for the food to appear on the golden platters.

"So, Daphne," Harry said as he started serving himself, "this morning you explained Arithmancy, but could you tell me more about Ancient Runes?"

"Well, you see, it's all about imbuing magic into ancient symbols that you carve…"

* * *

As the last desserts disappeared from the tables, most of the student body rushed out of the hall as quickly as possible, eager to greet their beds after a long first day of classes. Filing in towards the end of the Slytherins, Tracey and Blaise began discussing their Potions assignment. Harry, having already had his fill of Potions for the day, hung back a few steps with Daphne.

"What did you think of classes today?" Harry asked as they moved further into the dungeons.

"They were alright. Herbology definitely isn't my thing, but Charms was a lot of fun. I must say, I was pretty impressed by how quickly you picked up those spells. Normally, students from Muggle families take a bit longer to get up to speed since they haven't grown up around magic."

"I mean, I did spend a good part of the summer in Diagon Alley. I watched a lot of magic while I was there." Harry slowed down as they passed a staircase. "Is it just me, or have we passed at least ten other staircases on just this floor? We're like three floors below the main level, where could they all go?"

A thoughtful expression grew on Daphne's face. "That's a really good question. There's not even any other classrooms down here." She paused when a huge grin grew slid onto Harry's face. "What?"

"How does some exploration sound to you?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Long time no see! Yeah, it's been a while, I know. Unfortunately, I can't promise my updates will pick up, since I just started graduate school. However, I'll continue to update whenever I'm able. Please leave a review!**


	23. Chapter 23

At nearly eleven o'clock, Harry quietly crept down the stairs to the Slytherin common room. After dinner, he and Daphne had decided it was as good a night as any to explore the castle. Blaise had bowed out, saying he hadn't slept well the previous night. Daphne said she would invite Tracey, but apparently she valued her sleep above most things.

Seeing a figure seated in one of the chairs in front of the smoldering fire, Harry decided to try something new. The sound of footsteps on cobblestone were hard to mask, but if he could avoid stepping on the stones entirely, he could eliminate it. As he stepped off the staircase, he projected his magic through the sole of his foot and gathered a large amount of air underneath it. When his foot came down, it stopped several millimeters above the floor in complete silence. Harry wobbled for a moment, as the gathered air was much less stable than an actual floor.

Grinning in success, he repeated the magic with his other foot, and slowly made his way towards the center of the common room. After a quick glance to make sure it was indeed Daphne, he leaned down next to her ear and whispered, "Boo."

A shriek leapt from Daphne's lips as she jumped out of the armchair, one hand flying to her mouth and the other fumbling with her wand. Shock quickly morphed into anger, and she gave a swift punch to Harry's shoulder as he quietly laughed at her reaction. Still hovering slightly over the ground, he lost his balance and tumbled backward onto the floor.

"You complete prat!" Daphne half-whispered, half-shouted. "That was so mean! I nearly passed out!" She took several deep breaths to calm herself as Harry picked himself up off the floor, a grin still plastered over his face. "How did you manage to sneak up on me, anyways? I didn't hear a single thing."

"I just went really slowly," Harry responded, deciding to continue hiding his unique abilities. "Anyways, you ready to head out?"

* * *

The two first-years slowly made their way through the dungeons towards the entrance hall. They had explored many of the staircases and hallways that branched from the main corridor, and ended up even more confused than before. The corridors contained mostly empty classrooms, but one corridor emerged on the opposite side of the one they had started in, despite having taken no turns. The staircases were also mostly normal, though one upwards staircase had somehow brought them down a floor, and another ended at a window overlooking the main courtyard.

They finally arrived at the main floor, and immediately had to duck behind a nearby suit of armor as Filch the caretaker came shuffling from the Entrance Hall. He muttered to himself (or maybe to Mrs. Norris), and eventually disappeared towards the Grand Staircase. Harry and Daphne, instead of following, went to one of the lesser used staircases in order to remain unseen. They emerged in an unused portion of the second floor that followed the southern wall of the castle. The pair slowed down, looking over the grounds.

"You know, we should probably explore the grounds, too. Hogwarts owns the entire forest, not to mention the whole lake and the surrounding land," Daphne explained.

"Well, we've got all weekend to do that," Harry replied. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves."

Daphne smiled and continued walking, though her expression soon turned contemplative. "Harry, I've got a question about Charms."

Harry glanced over, slightly nervous. "Am I really the right person to ask? I mean you probably know a lot more about them than I do."

"That's not what I mean," Daphne shook her head. "You cast the spell almost right away, but you never even tried it again. Every other person who got it just kept casting it the entire class, but you just watched and helped us. And even the one time you did cast it, it just sort of… petered out. I just didn't want to ask about it in front of everyone in case it was an issue of power. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's just—"

"Daphne," Harry interrupted, "it's not that. I just… my magic works a little different than most people's. Think we could just leave it at that for now?"

Daphne looked ashamed. "Yeah, of course. Sorry for prying, Harry."

"It's alright, you didn't know. I'm just still figuring it all out, it's kinda new to me too," Harry assured her. Daphne opened her mouth to reply, but her mouth snapped shut at the sound of a new voice.

"Who's there, my sweet? Maybe first years, out for a midnight stroll? Maybe those damn twins, planning some new horror to inflict on us? Come, Mrs. Norris, let's find out."

Daphne's eyes were wide with panic, and she looked around quickly for a way out, but all the classroom doors were in the hallway Filch was approaching in. There was a staircase at either end of the corridor, but they were almost halfway between, and Filch would certainly round the corner before they reached them.

Harry's mind was racing. He knew he could move fast enough to escape Filch's sight, but Daphne wouldn't be able to keep up, and he wasn't willing to leave her in detention by herself. The only potential hiding spot he could see were the shallow alcoves behind the suits of armor scattered throughout the corridor, but there was definitely not enough room for either of them to hide, even separately.

From the sound of it, they had about twenty seconds until Filch rounded the corner, and Harry could only think of one solution. He pulled Daphne over to the nearest suit of armor, then placed both of his hands on the wall behind it. Closing his eyes, he pushed his magic into the wall and began molding it to his will.

He was surprised when he felt a different, foreign magic already permeating the stones. However, once he began to communicate what his intentions were, the magic in the walls began to assist him, deepening the alcove with little effort on Harry's part. Seeing that Daphne was too shocked to move on her own, he dragged her in with him, keeping one hand on the walls. Once they were both fully inside the new space, the opening narrowed until it was barely wide enough to slide through. He looked at Daphne and put a finger to his lips, though it appeared she was too surprised to make any sound.

The shuffling figure of Filch moved around the corner, shadowed by the smaller form of Mrs. Norris. "You heard them too, didn't you, my dear? They couldn't have run, we would have heard… Hm. Keep looking, dear, we'll find them."

Filch and his cat moved down the hallway the way Daphne and Harry had come from, eventually disappearing down the stairs. Pushing a bit of magic back into the wall, the two fugitives were able to step out of the alcove, Daphne watching intently as the stones flowed back to their original configuration.

"Not here," Harry said, seeing Daphne opening her mouth to question him. They quickly walked down the corridor in the opposite direction Filch had gone, going up the staircase and coming out on the third floor. Daphne opened a door, and after seeing the room was abandoned, moved inside. Harry heaved a sigh and followed.

* * *

"Spill."

The classroom they were in was mostly filled with old and broken chairs and tables shoved against the wall. The few serviceable pieces were in the center of the room, and now Harry was seated at a narrow desk with Daphne leaning on the other side as if they were in a Muggle interrogation room. Her eyes were locked with his, a slight frown marring her features.

"I'm gonna need a bit more to go off of than that," Harry replied with a slight edge in his tone. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Daphne's expression softened a bit, realizing that this was likely a sensitive topic. "Sorry, it's just… I was starting to think you were weak, magically. And I swear that I wouldn't have judged you for that or anything, but that's kind of what your performance in class looked like. Really good control, but not much power. But what you just did… I can't even begin to understand how you managed that. And _without a wand_? How is that even possible?"

For several moments, Harry remained silent, trying to decide how much to tell her. He obviously had to tell her at least part of the truth, there was no disguising the magic he had performed to escape Filch.

"Alright. You see…"

* * *

Daphne was flabbergasted. According to Harry, he had been able to perform limited wandless magic for _years_ , something that took most adult wizards decades to learn, even for a simple spell like a summoning charm. Her father was only capable of weak summoners and banishers, and he was no slouch. Harry, though, was apparently able to perform magic without making it into a proper spell, like the transfiguration he had performed on the wall of the castle.

"…Daphne?" Harry's voice rang out in the silence.

She shook herself out of her reverie. "Sorry. It's just… a lot to process."

"You're telling me," he replied with a smirk. "Imagine my surprise when _I_ found out."

"So, if what you did in the corridor was spur of the moment, what other stuff can you do?" Daphne inquired.

In response, Harry placed his hand palm up on the desk in front of Daphne. With a moment of concentration, he sparked his magic into a merrily dancing flame that proceeded to jump from finger to finger. Daphne's jaw had dropped again. Deciding to try something new, he stretched the flame out so it was about six inches long, and quite narrow. He then molded it into even more detail, tapering it at one end, and flattening the other. After a few seconds, the flat end opened, revealing tiny orange fangs and a forked tongue. With a quiet hiss, the tiny snake made of fire began coiling around his fingers.

Daphne was far beyond words at this point. Elemental spells beyond the basic _Incendio_ and _Aguamenti_ were incredibly difficult to cast, not to mention exerting fine control over them. The magic Harry was currently performing should have been completely impossible for a first year, and he was doing it casually.

"So what do you think?" Harry asked, grinning at the dumbstruck look on Daphne's face. She looked up at him, eyes widening once more, this time with a measure of fear in them. "What? Do you not like snakes?" At this thought, he immediately dispelled the flames that had continued to dance in his palm.

"Wh-what was that?" Daphne asked, beginning to panic. "Did-did you just—"

"Daphne, what's wrong? What did I do?"

"Harry, you… you were hissing at me."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks for all the new favorites and reviews! With any luck, I'll be able to bust out another chapter before the end of the weekend, but no promises. If you have any questions or comments, please drop a review!**


	24. Chapter 24

Harry looked at Daphne with confusion.

"What are you talking about? I thought you just didn't like snakes, so I got rid of it."

"No, Harry, you—you were definitely hissing. You sounded _exactly_ like a snake sounds," Daphne replied. "Make the snake again."

"Daphne, what—" Harry started.

"Harry. Make the snake," Daphne interrupted, leaving no room for argument.

Harry's brow furrowed, but he did as she asked, and soon the small orange snake was curling around his fingers again.

"Alright, now talk to it," Daphne instructed.

"Daphne, this doesn't make any sense," Harry said.

"Just do it, Harry. And really listen to what you're saying."

He looked at the snake, nonplussed. "Erm… hello? Can you hear me?" Harry asked, feeling rather foolish, though his words did sound rather strange to his ears. The snake's head lifted, and the red embers that made up its eyes seemed to somehow focus on him.

"Ssssspeaker? Yesssss, I can hear you."

Harry dropped the snake on the desk, shoving his chair backwards. The snake dissipated as Harry pulled his magic back into himself. "Daphne, did you hear that? The snake, it just spoke to me!"

Daphne looked calmer now, seemingly having managed to gather her thoughts while Harry was distracted. "All I heard was hissing, Harry. I think… Harry you're a Parselmouth."

"A what?" Harry asked, still in shock.

"It means you can talk to snakes, Harry. You can speak Parseltongue, the language of snakes. You have a magical ability that lets you speak and understand it, just like Salazar Slytherin." Daphne was building up steam now, her excitement growing. "Harry, this is amazing. Parselmouths are incredibly rare, and other than You-Know-Who there hasn't been one recorded in Europe in over a century!"

Harry was still somewhat confused. "So what if I can speak to snakes? It's just another language, even if it might be rare."

"It's just an extremely rare ability, and it's usually associated with Dark wizards, since You-Know-Who was the last famous Parselmouth. Harry, you've got to keep this quiet. If this gets out to the rest of the school, it could cause some serious problems. Everyone not in Slytherin will probably tell their families that you're a Dark wizard-in-training."

"If you say so," Harry shrugged. He still didn't see what the big deal was with another language. "It's getting kind of late, Daphne, we should probably be heading back."

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning feeling slightly lethargic. He and Daphne had returned to the Slytherin dorms at nearly one in the morning, and Harry had collapsed into his bed and passed out almost instantly. Rolling off his four-poster bed, he performed his morning rituals and packed his book bag for the day. As he was about to walk out the door, he realized that Blaise was still in his bed, a small amount of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Harry sighed and stepped next to Blaise's head.

"BLAISE!" Harry shouted directly into his ear.

"Wha—who—huh?" Blaise exclaimed as he shot up in his bed.

"Eloquent as always, Blaise," Harry smirked. "Come on, time to head to breakfast if you wanna eat before class."

"Okay, okay, I'm on it," Blaise muttered, as he shuffled to the bathroom.

While he waited, Harry pulled a piece of parchment from his desk and inked a quill. He had told Ollivander that he would owl him after he arrived at Hogwarts.

 _Dear Mr. Ollivander,  
I've arrived at Hogwarts. You were right, the view from the lake is absolutely stunning. It looked like something straight out of a book. Classes have been pretty good so far, especially Transfiguration. Though, my… unique situation has made some exercises somewhat challenging, I've managed to hide it so far. I did accidentally reveal it to one of my friends, but she seems trustworthy.  
However, I did discover something new. Turns out, I'm a "Parselmouth," which I discovered accidentally with that same friend I mentioned. I was curious, do you have any information on it that I could use?  
I hope you are doing well, though I can't imagine your shop is too packed with all the students back at Hogwarts.  
Hope to hear back soon,  
Harry Potter_

He folded the parchment into thirds and stuffed it into an envelope. Just as he was scribbling Ollivander's name on the front, Blaise emerged from the bathroom, looking back to his perfectly groomed self.

"Ready to go?" he asked, grabbing his already packed bag from the floor.

* * *

Harry and Blaise slid into their seats next to Daphne and Tracey.

"Morning, boys," Tracey greeted them. "How did you sleep?" she added with a smirk in Harry's direction.

"Not long enough," Blaise groused.

"Blaise, you had at least nine hours of sleep, stop complaining," Harry said as Hedwig fluttered down from the rafters and landed on his shoulder. He lifted a piece of bacon to her beak as he gently stroked her feathers. "Up for a delivery, Hed?"

Hedwig hooted back indignantly, as if offended that he even had to ask. She lifted a leg and allowed Harry to tie the letter to it, then snatched two more pieces of bacon from Blaise's plate before taking flight.

"I swear, that bird is too intelligent for her own good," Blaise complained as he refilled his plate. "What's on our schedule today?"

"History and Transfiguration in the morning, Charms and Defense in the afternoon," Daphne replied. "Though I'm not sure we should even count History as a class. My mom told me it's basically completely self-study for the yearly exams, and especially the OWLs and NEWTs."

"Why's that?" Harry asked.

"There's a ghost teaching it. Which wouldn't normally be a problem, but apparently, he focuses almost entirely on Goblin history, which is a pretty minor part of the tests," Daphne explained.

"Great. I was hoping that part of my education would be completely useless," Blaise remarked. "You'd think there would be an actual historian looking for a job who could replace him."

"That's probably why they do, though. One less salary to pay," Tracey joked.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the four Slytherins entered the Defense classroom along with the rest of their cohort. The room was organized with five dense rows of desk right at the entrance, with a chalkboard in front of them. The other half of the room was bare, with a door in the back that presumably would lead to the professor's office. Sliding into one side of the front row, they took out their books and quills in preparation for note taking.

Malfoy and his friends were loudly discussing the worthlessness of History when the professor's door opened. Quirrell, with his iconic purple turban on his head, made his way to the chalkboard and waved his wand over it. Three words appeared.

"Jinxes, hexes, and c-c-curses. Can anyone tell m-me the difference between these k-k-kinds of sp-spells?" His stuttering was noticeable, but fortunately not debilitating, though it did have a way of reducing the gravitas of his words. "Anyone?"

He waited a few seconds before waving his wand again, revealing more writing. "J-jinxes are typically short t-t-term spells, causing no physical harm and l-l-leaving no lasting effects. Hexes f-f-focus on causing physical ailments, and c-c-can have p-permanent effects if improperly removed or l-left applied for too long. Finally, c-c-curses are damaging spells that give the v-victim debilitating injuries or harmful m-mental effects. In this class, we will learn extremely basic v-versions of each type of spell, as well as c-c-common counter-spells and d-defensive techniques." Harry scribbled down the professor's words as quickly as he could.

"Now, has anyone here p-performed any of these spells before?" Quirrell asked. Malfoy's hand lazily raised into the air, a superior smile forming on his face as he saw no other hands going up. "Mr. Malfoy, is it? Which spell have you performed before?"

" _Tarantallegra_ ," Malfoy proclaimed. "My father taught it right after I got my wand this summer."

"Would you care to d-demonstrate?" Quirrell asked. "Ms. P-P-Parkinson, would you and Mr. Malfoy mind j-joining me up here?"

Malfoy and his pug-faced companion walked to the front of the classroom, where he positioned them across the room from each other. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy, p-please show us." Malfoy raised his wand, and with a sweeping motion followed by a jab, shouted, " _Tarantallegra!_ "

A pale blue beam of light shot from his wand, striking Parkinson in the stomach. Immediately, her legs began the motions for a simple waltz, as her face turned a bright red.

" _Finite_ ," murmured Quirrell, and Parkinson's motions stopped. She quickly took her seat, followed by Malfoy, who had a grin plastered across his face. "As you c-can see, Mr. Malfoy's spell caused Ms. Parkinson's legs t-t-to dance under his control. This is a-an example of a jinx, b-b-because there was no physical ch-changes to Ms. Parkinson, nor were there any effects r-r-remaining after the spell was c-cancelled. Now, b-begin reading the first ch-chapter of your textbook."

* * *

"Well, that was a bit underwhelming," Blaise commented as the four Slytherins made their way towards the library. "I know it was just the first class, but I was hoping for more than a demonstration from a classmate."

"Give it time, I'm sure it'll get better. He did say we would be learning some of them, we just have to wait a bit," Daphne said. "Not all of our classes are going to be exciting right from the start." Harry and his friends returned to the same table they used the previous day and began putting the finishing touches on their Potions assignment.

"Hey, where are the two that were here yesterday? Longbottom and, what was it, Granger?" Tracey asked.

"Um, I think that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have their flying lessons today, if I'm not mistaken. That takes up all the time before dinner," Harry answered. "We're up tomorrow, right?"

"Yep, with the Gryffindors of course. I really don't know why they always put us in classes with them, that never goes well," Tracey complained. "How did your exploration go last night? I forgot to ask Daph this morning."

"Tracey, you know I've told you not to call me that," Daphne replied after a glance to Harry. "It was interesting, though. Almost got caught by Filch. Some of the passages in the dungeons are really strange, though. I bet there's tons of shortcuts we could find, but it's gonna be tough to map it out."

"That's what weekends are made for, Daph!" Tracey replied with a grin. "Don't you worry, by next month you'll be ten minutes early to every class." Daphne shot her friend a sharp look but turned back to her essay. "Blaise, could you explain the reaction between the snake fangs and the nettles from Potions yesterday?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: If the descriptions of magic aren't clear, please let me know. I have a pretty solid image of what I want it to be, but I know it can get lost in translation sometimes. I've also decided to make Quirrell a little less useless than canon so they can actually learn something. As always, please drop a review!**


	25. Chapter 25

The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig returned to Harry with a small scroll tied to her leg. He untied it as Hedwig stole Blaise's bacon, then unrolled the parchment.

 _Dear Harry,  
You are quite right, business has died down since the semester started. Fall is usually when I take my ingredient-collecting trips, but I have decided to stay in England this year. The fact that you are a Parselmouth is quite interesting. I have no real information myself, but I have an… acquaintance, shall we say, from South America who is, in fact, a Parselmouth. I will contact him on your behalf and see if there is anything he believes you should know.  
I have continued to make progress on that ritual, though as I informed you this summer, you will need even more fine control over your magic before we can utilize it. I would suggest that you continue to practice your unique abilities in private to increase your control, and perhaps you will be able to better overcome your magical limitations as well. I'm sure that classes like Defense Against the Dark Arts will prove somewhat troublesome, since practically all of those spells act at a range. Shields, though, could be doable in your current state.  
I hope your classes continue to go well, and please, keep in touch.  
Garrick Ollivander  
P.S.: How many times have I told you to call me Garrick? Mr. Ollivander was my dad._

Harry smiled, and rolled the letter back up, slipping it into his bag. Hedwig was dancing around Blaise and Tracey's plates, trying to steal more of their bacon.

"Who was that from?" Daphne asked from Harry's side.

"Mr. Ollivander," Harry answered. "He helped me out with my… issues this summer and made me promise to keep in touch with him."

Daphne nodded as Blaise finally managed to fend off Hedwig, who then returned to Harry's shoulder, giving him a cuff to the back of his head as if to chastise him for not helping her crusade. Harry just smiled and lifted a piece of toast to her beak.

"You know, Hedwig is scary smart. I mean, I've never seen a post owl behave like that before. They usually just deliver their letters and leave," Tracey commented.

"Well she's not _just_ an owl, she's my friend. I wouldn't want her to just sit in the owlery when she's not delivering letters, that would be mind-numbing."

"Think you could ask her to not steal my breakfast every day?" Blaise grumbled.

"Oh, grow up, Blaise. There's a full plate of bacon like three feet away from you," Daphne responded with a smirk.

"Yeah, but it's _my_ bacon. She can get her own."

Hedwig barked sharply at Blaise, before taking off and flying through the opening near the roof.

"I think she said yours tastes better," replied Harry with a smirk.

* * *

The door to the Transfiguration classroom opened, and Harry and his friends walked in. They had finished lunch early and decided to show up to their first double-Transfiguration ahead of schedule so they could practice their spellwork.

"Harry, could you help me with this again? I'm just having a problem getting it to not look like wood. It has the right shape and color, but it just looks like silver wood," Blaise asked.

"Well, I'd guess the problem is the way you're thinking about it. Are you imagining a metal needle?" Harry answered.

"Well, no. I mean, this spell doesn't even change it into metal."

"That's true, but if you're still imagining it to be wood, it'll end up looking like wood. Just imagine you're really changing it to metal, and that should do the trick." Sure enough, on his next attempt, Blaise managed a nearly perfect needle.

"How are you this good at Transfiguration already, Harry? I mean, it's one thing to cast it as quickly as you did, but figuring out what other people are doing wrong that easily?" Tracey inquired.

"I'm not really sure, to be honest. It just seems like almost second nature to me. Sort of how Potions feels for you, Blaise," Harry answered.

Blaise nodded. "I guess that's fair. Potions just makes sense to me, the rest of our classes are alright but they're not as easy." Their discussion was interrupted as the rest of the first year Slytherins began flooding in.

"Surprise, surprise, the teacher's pets are already here," Nott commented as he slid into his back-row seat. "What, didn't get enough attention today? Need to get a few extra points to make yourselves feel better?"

"That is quite enough, Mr. Nott. Five points from Slytherin," McGonagall announced as she entered the classroom. "Today, we will begin our next transfiguration…"

* * *

The entirety of the Slytherin cohort made their way down to the Quidditch pitch for their flying lesson. It was to be led by Madam Hooch, and was a joint class between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Two rows of brooms were laid out on the pitch, with the Gryffindors already lining one side. The green-clad students filed in on the other side, and Madam Hooch began her lesson.

"Stick your wand hand over your broom and say up!" Hooch instructed.

The entire class did so, with varied results. Tracey's and Blaise's brooms jumped up immediately, as did Draco's and Ron Weasley's. Daphne's rolled around half-heartedly on the ground, while Harry's didn't even twitch. After a few moments of allowing everyone to try several times, she told the rest of the class to pick up their brooms.

"Alright, everybody grip how I just demonstrated—good—now kick off firmly and hold the brooms steady and level," Hooch commanded.

Most of the class shot into the sky, some under control, some not. Harry, however remained with his feet firmly planted on the grass. Daphne descended slightly to hover next to him.

"You alright, Harry?" she called out.

"Yeah, fine, I just don't think flying is my thing," he smiled back. In truth, flying sounded amazing, but the broom he was holding might as well be a dead twig plucked from a tree. It seemed that his condition didn't allow him to use brooms, for whatever reason. He turned as Madam Hooch began approaching him, keeping her hawk-like eyes on the students drifting around the pitch.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"No, ma'am, I just don't think that I'm really interested in flying," Harry responded with a sad smile. Hooch, surprising Harry, responded in kind.

"That is a shame, Mr. Potter. Your father was an incredible Chaser, and I was hoping that you might follow in his footsteps. But, as you say, flying isn't for everyone," she said, then turned and lifted off into the air. Harry walked to the benches nearby and watched. The rest of the class was making slow laps around the pitch with the rest of the class under Madam Hooch's direction, but after a single lap, Daphne landed on the grass and walked towards him.

"Everything okay, Daphne?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I've just never been a huge fan of Quidditch. My dad was really disappointed when I told him," Daphne told him with a smile. "Plus, I'm not a huge fan of heights," she admitted quietly, hiding her face behind a curtain of her hair.

As the class progressed, Hooch allowed the students increasing amounts of autonomy, eventually allowing the students to practice with several Quaffles. Harry and Daphne simply watched, laughing as Tracey repeatedly stole a Quaffle from Blaise's arms.

Harry cocked his head as he heard a faint whistling sound, then, in a blur, stood and reached across Daphne's lap. With a dull thud, a Quaffle landed solidly in Harry's palm, intercepted on its path towards Daphne's head. Daphne let out a quiet squeak as she realized how close a call it had been, then directed a glare upwards to where Ron Weasley hovered, smirking at them.

"Sorry!" he called down to them, without an ounce of sincerity as he flew off down the pitch. Harry felt a pulse of anger at the redhead, who had nearly injured one of his first friends. With a grunt, Harry heaved the Quaffle towards his retreating figure, rewarded with a cry of surprise as it landed square between his shoulders. The hit wasn't enough to unseat him but would surely leave a bruise as a reminder.

"Sorry!" Harry yelled, "I was just trying to get it back to you!"

Daphne looked at him with no small amount of shock. "Harry, how on earth did you manage to throw it that far? And that accurately? You could probably beat out most of the Chasers at Hogwarts already!"

Harry just shrugged. "Lucky for them, I'm not trying to."

* * *

As the days turned into weeks, Harry and his friends continued to excel in their classes. Harry was easily the best in Transfiguration, while Blaise led the pack in Potions, though Tracey and Daphne were never far behind. Harry, despite copious amounts of practice, had yet to achieve a single offensive spell in Defense, much to his chagrin and the delight of some of his classmates. September turned to October, bringing with it several large storms that forced the students of Hogwarts to remain inside most of the time. On yet another rainy Tuesday afternoon, Quirrell stood at the front of the class for another lecture.

"Alright, s-settle down, children. It's t-t-time we moved on from jinxes to another t-type of magic. This is v-very dangerous stuff, so any misuse of these sp-spells will result in immediate d-d-detention with Mr. Filch. T-today, we will b-begin working with basic elemental sp-spells. Can anyone t-tell me one?"

Theodore Nott raised his hand with a grin on his face. "My father taught me the fire spell, _Incendio_ ," he stated proudly.

"W-would you mind demonstrating for us, Mr. Nott?" Quirrell asked. Nott stood with a smirk on his face and went to the front of the classroom. "N-now, everyone observe. _Protego!_ " A pale blue light shot out of Quirrell's wand, first straight out, then curving out in an elliptical shape in front of Quirrell. "Th-this is the m-m-most basic shield spell, _Protego_. It is our f-first example of a continuously draining spell, as I m-must keep c-c-concentrating on it as well as c-continuing to supply it with my m-m-magic. Now, Mr. Nott, p-please cast your spell t-towards my shield."

Nott drew his wand back towards his side, then thrust it out directly towards Quirrell, while shouting " _Incendio!_ " A burst of flames shot from his wand in a cone, expanding to about two feet across by the time it reached Quirrell's shield, where it continued to dissipate before vanishing completely. Quirrell nodded Nott back towards his seat as he ceased casting his shield.

"N-now, I would like you to p-pair off, and practice these spells. Do not, under any c-circumstances, cast any spells t-towards each other, or you w-will immediately have d-detention for a week. The other b-basic elemental sp-spells are _Glacius_ , _Fulgus_ , _Ventus_ , and _Aguamenti_ , for ice, l-lightning, w-wind, and water re-respectively. Their w-wand motions are all the same, and they are on the b-b-board. C-cast only towards the t-targets I've set up on the walls."

Daphne and Harry paired off, as did Blaise and Tracey. They went to the two targets that were the farthest from Nott's cronies, nearest the doors to the classroom. Daphne went first.

" _Glacius!_ " she shouted, jabbing her wand towards the dummy. An icicle about six inches long launched from her wand, shattering against the wall next to her intended target. She frowned. "It's a lot harder to aim than I expected," she explained as Harry took his place in front of the target.

Harry pulled his wand back, picturing a burst of wind pushing his target over. With a thrust, he cried " _Ventus!_ " Instantly, his wand hand was forced backwards as a wall of air launched towards the practice dummy, slamming it against the wall with impressive force. Daphne stared at the target, while several of the nearby groups turned to see what the noise had come from.

"Wow, Harry, that was… something," Blaise said, somewhat dumbfounded. The other students turned back to their own targets when nothing else happened. "When I tried that one, I just got a stiff breeze."

Harry, meanwhile, was just staring at his wand. He had not been intending for that amount of force, but it had felt almost as if his wand had decided to increase the power of his spell. Putting it in the back of his mind, he gestured for Daphne to try again. She stepped up, raised her wand, and cast " _Fulgus!_ " A thin line of electricity shot towards the dummy, releasing a _crack_ when it finally connected, and pushed the target into the wall once more. "Wow, that one was fun!" she exclaimed. "Harry, you should definitely try that one."

"Sounds good to me," he said with a smile as he righted the target once more. He walked back to the middle of the classroom, then turned and faced his target. He drew his arm back, pictured a bolt of lightning in his mind, and pushed forwards. " _Fulgus!_ " The instant the word left his lips, a piercing shriek filled his ears, as his vision faded to black.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This chapter has been sitting on my computer mostly finished for about a month now. Sorry for the delay, but life gets in the way sometimes. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	26. Chapter 26

_He was flying above endless plains, his powerful wings sending him soaring through the air with each powerful motion. His eyes danced over the grass and occasional trees, searching for… something. Spotting a glimmer of light in the distance, he tipped his feathers just so, allowing him to wheel himself towards what soon revealed itself to be a lake. When he got close enough, he closed his wings and began to dive, accompanied by a crash of what sounded like thunder. Just when he was about to crash into the water, he—_

Harry shot up in bed with a shout, his heart racing and breath heavy. His eyes cast about the room not recognizing where he was. Just as he began to throw off his bedsheets to stand up, a woman walked quickly out of a door at the end of the room.

"Pray tell, _where_ do you think you're going, young man?" She asked, pushing him back into the bed. "Mr. Potter, you were brought in with a rather severe case of magical exhaustion, and you will _not_ be leaving before Sunday morning, at the absolute earliest. Yes, that means you will be spending all of tomorrow here."

"You mean it's Friday night?" Harry asked in shock. "B-but my class was on Tuesday!"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you've been unconscious for over three days. I'm not sure what happened in your class, but rest assured, you will be casting no more magic until I am sure that you are alright," she said firmly.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry grumbled.

"My name is Poppy Pomfrey, Mr. Potter, you may call me Poppy if you'd like, or Madam Pomfrey. Now please, get some rest. I'll talk to you in the morning to discuss what happened," she said. After ensuring Harry was settling back into his bed, she moved back towards what Harry assumed were her quarters. Beginning to feel tired again, Harry settled his head back into the impossibly soft pillows and closed his eyes.

* * *

He was awakened what felt like seconds later by the sound of clinking glass. Glancing around, he noticed Madam Pomfrey at a nearby cabinet, in the process of removing several vials filled with different colored solutions.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, finally awake I see. Here we go, bottoms up young man," she said, placing three of the vials on the table next to Harry.

"Er, what are these?" Harry asked, picking up a vial filled with a pale green fluid.

"That one is a nutrient potion, which is to help you recover from being unable to eat for the last three days. The bluish one is helping to return your core to full strength after your near exhaustion, and the clear one will help to heal the damage done to your mind during whatever ordeal you were experiencing," Pomfrey explained. "Come on, drink up."

Harry tipped the first one up, draining it in one go. He grimaced. "Eurgh, that one tastes like mud," he complained.

"Well, the others don't taste much better. Best to take all three, then you can have some water to rinse the taste out," Pomfrey said with a small smile. "Now, I'm sure your friends will be here soon, they would barely leave for meals and sleep, but first, I need to discuss some things with you."

* * *

About an hour later, Madam Pomfrey was finally coming to understand what the child and her scans were telling her. It was a situation that she had never heard of before and had no idea how to deal with.

"Um, Madam Pomfrey, do you have to keep quiet my medical information, like doctors?" Harry asked, nervousness clear in his voice. "It's just… It's kind of a personal problem, I'd rather other people didn't know about it."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I'm bound as a Healer to keep your medical information to myself without your express permission otherwise. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," she smiled at him. "If you don't mind my asking, who else does know about your… condition?"

"Just Mr. Ollivander and Daphne Greengrass, so far," Harry replied.

"Very well," Pomfrey replied. "On that note, I think it's high time you had some visitors."

* * *

"Harry!" three voices shouted as the doors to the infirmary were pushed open. Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione all ran in at the same time, followed soon after by Neville and Blaise at a slower pace. The three girls crowded around the bed where Harry was sitting, while the two boys took stools and sat towards his feet.

Hermione immediately began peppering him with questions. "What happened to you? Why were you knocked out for so long? How are you—"

"Hermione, slow down," Tracey interjected. "Give him a chance to answer before you pass out."

"Um, could you guys tell me what happened? The last thing I remember is casting _Fulgus_ —" Harry blinked for a moment, believing he heard thunder rumbling in the distance, "and then I woke up here last night."

"When you cast that spell, it sounded like a cannon had gone off. You remember how when I cast it, there was just a tiny bit of lightning connecting my wand and the target?" Harry nodded, and Daphne continued. "Well, yours did a lot more than that. It looked like some sort of animal made of lightning, and it just smashed into the wall. There wasn't even a target once the light cleared," she said. "When I looked back at you, your eyes had this weird glow to them, then you just collapsed." Tracey and Blaise nodded in confirmation of Daphne's words.

"Not to mention your wand," Tracey interjected.

"What about my wand?" Harry asked, worried.

"Oh, don't worry, it's quite safe," Blaise said. "After Quirrell took you to the hospital wing, Nott ran over and tried to pick it up, as a trophy or something. Gave him a nasty shock, I've never heard anything so high pitched before," he said with a smirk. "Anyways, it didn't seem to want to be moved, 'cause when we went back on Thursday morning, it looked like one of the professors put a ward over it. There's just a glowing dome over the floor where it was laying."

Harry frowned. He didn't like the idea of his wand just sitting on the floor in a classroom that anybody could walk into. There was a _crack_ accompanied by a brief flash of light, and suddenly, Harry's wand was sitting innocently on his lap as if it had always been there. They all blinked.

"Well. That was certainly… interesting," said Neville. Hermione looked as if Christmas had come early. Sensing an onslaught of questions, Harry quickly intervened with something he knew would distract her.

"So, can anyone catch me up on what I've missed in class?"

* * *

On Sunday morning, Harry was finally released from his prison, and rejoined his classmates for breakfast. He slid into his seat and began piling food onto his plate, relishing the feeling of being immersed in civilization again.

Until, that is, a voice spoke up from further down the table. "Finally recovered from casting a basic spell, eh, Potter?" Nott called out. "Guess now we know where you stand on the power scale."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, at least I didn't lose a fight to a wand, Nott. I heard that you're a pretty good soprano, though. Is that a family ability?"

Nott sputtered for a few moments, finally coming up with a response. "Yeah, well, at least I've got a family." His posse snickered as Nott's smirk grew, thinking he'd won.

Just then, a screech sounded from behind Nott, who quickly turned to face the sound. He immediately received a face full of white feathers, and he once again demonstrated his singing ability. Harry and his friends laughed as Hedwig detached from Nott and came to a stop on Harry's shoulder.

"Hey, girl, how—" he was cut off as Hedwig nipped his ear and cuffed the back of his head. "Okay, yeah, I probably deserved that one," he groused. "Got something for me, girl?" With a last squawk of displeasure, Hedwig stuck her leg out, where a thick scroll was tied. Harry removed it, and rewarded Hedwig with a piece of bacon stolen from Blaise's plate. Glancing at the spidery writing, he recognized Ollivander's handwriting, and decided to read it later.

"So, what do you guys want to do today?"

* * *

The fall storms had subsided for a time, and so the four Slytherins departed the castle and wandered the grounds near the lake. Eventually they came to a rocky shore, where Blaise decided to teach the girls how to skip rocks. Sitting on the shore nearby, Harry took out the scroll and began to read.

 _Dear Harry,  
I hope your classes are continuing to go well. Not much new to report on my side, though I did receive a reply from my friend. I've attached a note he requested to pass on to you. Please, continue to keep me updated on your Hogwarts adventures.  
Sincerely,  
Garrick Ollivander_

Tucking Ollivander's note into his pocket, Harry then unrolled the other note he received.

 _To Garrick's Parselmouth friend,  
The first thing I want to assure you of is that Parseltongue is _not _an evil or dark sort of magic. It is simply a language, though a rare and unteachable one (trust me, I have tried). You will find, over time, that snakes are not bound to obey a Parselmouth, though they do tend to defer to them, and they will almost never attack a known Parselmouth. Like any language, Parseltongue has its own variety of spells and other types of magic, and is uniquely well suited towards warding. You see, spells from different languages are moderately more difficult to dispel or counter in another language, and as differences between the languages grow, so does the difficulty. Parseltongue is unique, though, in that it is not even a human language, so is essentially as different from other languages as possible. While this is useful in nearly all types of magic, the dependence of warding on a written, runic language makes it even more powerful. I suggest that you begin learning the basics of warding as soon as you can.  
Now, on another note, all Parselmouths are born with a unique form, that is inevitably some sort of snake. This is separate from any other possible Animagus form you may have, and indeed, it is technically not an Animagus form. It is actually a manifestation of the Parselmagic, and so does not interfere with the Animagus magic.  
Finally, I expect that at some point you will form a familiar bond with a snake. Every Parselmouth I have known has bonded with a snake before the age of thirteen. I assure you, this snake will become your best friend, as mine has been for the past fifty or so years.  
I wish you the best of luck, my young friend. I hope that someday I may meet you. If you come up with any other questions, feel free to pass another letter through Garrick.  
Farewell._

Harry rolled the letter up, thoughts racing through his brain as Daphne approached him.

"Another letter from Ollivander? That was a long one," she commented as she smoothed her skirt and seated herself next to him.

"Actually, it was from another Parselmouth," Harry explained quietly. "Mr. Ollivander got in touch with him, and finally heard back."

"Well, what'd he have to say? I can tell something's going through your head," she said with a smile, nudging him with her shoulder. Harry smiled in spite of himself.

"Apparently there's a lot more to Parselmagic than anyone knew. A _lot_ more," he said.

"If you ever want to talk about it, just let me know. I won't tell," Daphne said softly.

"Thanks, Daph."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, I know my update schedule makes no sense at all. On a side note, some of the ideas I'm using about Parselmagic are inspired by Miranda Flairgold's "A Second Chance at Life." It's an absolutely fantastic series (not to mention incredibly long), and I highly suggest it to everyone. Anyways, thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!**


	27. Chapter 27

The next few days, all of Harry's thoughts were consumed by the letter from Ollivander's friend. Since the incident that night with Daphne, Harry had barely even thought about snakes, nor had he used his unique brand of magic for anything bigger than lighting a candle. So, the following Thursday, he decided to sneak out of the dorms late at night to work on everything he had been putting off.

He soon found a large room in the dungeons that appeared to be a former lecture hall. It was a huge room with raised stadium style seating, which he had entered at the top of. The front of the room was a massive open area, with chalkboards lining the back wall. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he dragged the teacher's desk away from the wall, along with a chair. He sat down, trying to figure out what to work on tonight.

He knew he would need to work on his magical control so that Ollivander's ritual could work. He also needed to start working on his Parselmagic, though he would have to figure out how to speak Parseltongue at will, not to mention how to write it. Finally, he had to figure out why his wand was behaving in such a strange manner. Deciding that without a snake the Parselmagic would be too difficult to work on, he decided to try to figure out why his wand was behaving so strangely.

Standing and drawing his wand, he brandished it across the room towards a blank stone wall, and cast. " _Incendio!_ " A massive gout of flames launched from his wand, impacting on the wall and leaving a sizable scorch mark behind. A slight frowned marred his face. That burst of fire was significantly larger than anything he had seen produced in the classroom the previous week.

Shaking his head and regathering his thoughts, he aimed his wand again and cast, " _Glacius!_ " A small shard of ice appeared at the tip of his wand, roughly eight inches long in the shape of an icicle, before launching at a high speed towards the wall. It impacted almost exactly where the fire had, shattering and spreading ice everywhere. Upon inspection, it actually managed to gouge out a small piece of stone, leaving a small indentation behind. Harry raised his wand again, concentrating as much as he could. He intentionally limited the amount of magic currently in his hand, then cast again. " _Glacius!_ "

This time, only a pellet of ice was formed, and it bounced off the wall at a much lower velocity than his previous attempt. Harry grinned. Apparently, he could change the effect of a spell simply by concentrating. He raised his wand once more, flooding his hand with more magic than it usually had. " _Glacius!_ " A spear of ice, fully five feet long, formed before him in less than a second, then launched at the wall almost faster than he could see. With a crash, it imbedded itself nearly a foot in the wall, with small pieces of stone and ice tumbling down to the floor.

Harry gaped at what he had just done. This spell was easily lethal, and yet Quirrell had thought it appropriate to teach first years. The other spells were nearly as bad. What could happen if a student got mad and decided to cast one of these at someone else?

Deciding that it would be best for him to become as adept with these spells as possible regardless of how dangerous they were, he moved on. Next was the wind spell. " _Ventus!_ " A blast of air, similar in strength to the one he had cast in the classroom, launched at the wall, breaking a few stray chairs against it in the process.

After this many spells, especially the large ice spear, he decided to try the last one before heading back to bed. Recalling what happened in class, Harry once again withdrew the majority of magic from his hand. " _Fulgus._ " Electricity emanated from his wand tip, reaching out with spidery fingers. As fast as it had reached out, one branch contacted the wall, and a loud _crack_ sounded as a large amount of energy pulsed from his wand into the wall. Harry cocked his head. This spell wasn't quite an instant effect, like most of the other spells he had learned. Concentrating on exactly the effect he wanted, he raised his wand again, keeping his power low. " _Fulgus!_ " The spidery fingers reached out again, but after travelling about halfway to the wall, they took a sharp turn to the left, towards the desks. A few feet later, they turned back to the right, before impacting on the wall. As before, just after impact, the lightning roughly tripled in diameter, channeling a significant amount of energy.

Harry grimaced as he felt more energy leave him. Though he could still perform magic, this was more than he had expended in quite a while. He decided he had done enough tonight, and was just about to leave, when he decided to try one more thing. He placed his wand in the center of the desk at the front of the class, then walked to the door at the back of the class. He raised his empty hand in front of himself palm up, then focused on his desire to have his wand back. There were two simultaneous flashes of light, followed immediately by two loud cracks, and his wand was firmly back in his grasp. Harry smiled, then turned and left the room.

* * *

The weeks continued to pass, and the weather continued to get colder, until it was difficult to be outside for even a few minutes without copious amounts of clothing. Harry continued to practice with his wand a few times a week, and was now able to control the power of his spells with barely a thought. He had even managed to cast _Protego_ , though it did take much more focus and power to maintain. He had also started to try imitating these spells with his wandless magic. He hadn't come anywhere close imitating the shield spell, but he was having limited success with the elemental spells.

Eventually, October came to its conclusion. On the afternoon of Halloween, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws had Herbology together. After the first class, Harry had paired with Hermione since the first class, and today they were working on repotting some more Mandrakes. He arrived at his station, surprised that Hermione wasn't there. He guessed that she just got caught up in a book, so continued setting up. However, several minutes into the start of class, she had still not arrived.

"Anthony," Harry said to another Ravenclaw, "Do you know where Hermione is?"

"Er, I haven't seen her since Transfiguration this morning," Goldstein replied. "Lisa, have you seen Hermione?" he asked his partner.

"Well I heard Ron Weasley yelling at her after lunch today," she replied. "It got pretty heated from what I could hear, he sounded really mad."

Harry frowned. "What happened after they argued?"

"I think I heard her crying and running off, but I didn't see where to, sorry," Lisa answered, turning back to her Mandrake.

* * *

After the last class of the day, Charms, he still hadn't seen or heard from Hermione. He was starting to get worried, it wasn't like her to miss class. In fact, he couldn't think of something less like Hermione.

"Daphne, would you mind coming to look for Hermione with me? I'm kinda worried about her," Harry said as they walked towards the Great Hall.

"Sure. Where did Lisa say she saw her?"

"Just outside the Great Hall I think, arguing with Ron. We should peek into the Hall and see if she's there, then we can look around a bit," Harry said.

Just as he feared though, she was nowhere to be seen. The two Slytherins began walking around the first floor, checking empty classrooms and calling her name. Finally, near the courtyard, they heard sobbing nearby. Glancing at each other, they walked to the entrance to the girls' bathroom.

"Hermione?" Harry called out. "Hermione, it's me and Daphne. Can we come in?"

"Okay," she called back, her tone unsteady. Daphne led the way in. The room was covered in white tiles, with a row of sinks on one side, stalls on the other. Hermione was leaning over the far sink, eyes red and tear streaks on her face. She gave a weak smile to the pair.

"Hey, guys. How's the feast?" she asked weakly. Daphne immediately rushed to Hermione's side, embracing her.

"We couldn't go without knowing where you were," Daphne said quietly. "Are you alright? Lisa told us that Ron got in an argument with you, and we were worried when you didn't show up to Herbology."

"It was stupid, don't worry about it. We should get back to the feast," Hermione said with a sniffle.

"Come on, Hermione, just tell us what happened," Harry said.

"I don't know, he was just saying that Muggleborn like me should know my place, and that I needed to stop being a know-it-all. I shouldn't have let him get into my head like that, but I couldn't help it," she explained quietly.

Harry was furious with Ron, but did his best not to show it, knowing that wasn't what Hermione needed right now. "Hermione, Ron's an idiot. You really can't take anything he says to heart."

"I know, I know. It's just… a lot of people in Primary said the same sorts of things, and it just kinda hit me," Hermione said in a weak voice. "I'm just so tired of being treated like that."

"Do your housemates treat you like that, too?" Daphne asked quietly.

"No… to be honest, they treat me better than any of my classmates in the Muggle world," she answered.

"Well, just stick with them and us. You don't need to listen to just on person's opinion, Hermione. He's probably just jealous of you," Harry said.

Hermione turned to him with a watery smile. "Thanks, guys."

 _Thud_.

"Did you guys hear that?" Harry asked.

"Hear what, Harry?" Daphne replied.

 _Thud._

"That sound. Like something really heavy fell over."

"I still don't—"

 _Thud._

"Okay never mind, I definitely heard that," Daphne said, a worried look on her face.

"What on earth—"

 _Thud_.

 _Thud._

* * *

Tracey and Blaise were seated at the end of the Slytherin table, loading their plates with various delicious foods that were prepared for the feast.

"Blaise, do you know where Harry and Daphne disappeared to?" Tracey asked. "They were right behind us when we left Charms."

"I'm not sure, Harry's seemed distracted since Herbology. Maybe he—"

Blaise was interrupted by the sound of the giant doors to the Great Hall slamming open.

"TROLLS! There's trolls – in the dungeons! Thought… thought you ought to know," Quirrell gasped, purple turban askew, panic and fear in his eyes. He took several more steps down the aisle, before collapsing in a dead faint on the floor. There was dead silence in the Hall for several seconds.

Then, as if possessed at the same time, all four houses stood, and began rushing towards the doors. Before anyone could leave, though, there was a massive bang from the teacher's table. Dumbledore lowered his wand.

"All students will remain in the Great Hall," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Minerva, Filius, Severus, with me. Poppy, please tend to Quirinius. All other teachers and prefects, please move to the front of the Hall. Younger students, move towards the windows. Quickly, please."

With nary a word, the entire Hall immediately began moving in accordance with Dumbledore's commands. Dumbledore and his group slipped out the doors, with several teachers moving up, wands out. Blaise looked to Tracey.

"Harry and Daphne…"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Another chapter pretty quickly, and hopefully I'll get one more up before I head back to school. Thanks for all the reviews, happy reading!**


	28. Chapter 28

Harry, Hermione, and Daphne slowly crept closer to the bathroom door.

 _Thud_.

The sounds were certainly getting closer. Perhaps they could lock the door, and keep whatever it was out. Harry stepped in front of the others, and reached a hand towards the lock.

 _Crash!_

The door shattered before he reached it. The three first-years scrambled backwards, eyes wide, as _something_ shuffled into the bathroom.

It was massive, at least twelve feet in height. The thing reminded Harry somewhat of an ape, with arms that were much to long for its body. Its skin was a mottled gray, with lumps of varying sizes covering its entire body. A tiny head was perched atop shoulders as wide as Harry was tall, and the thing dragged a small tree along behind it that was studded with sharp bits of metal. Beady eyes scanned the room, seemingly not noticing the trio at first.

"Th-th-that's a troll," Daphne stammered, eyes wide and fearful. At her words, the troll's head swung immediately towards them, eyes narrowing. With a wordless roar, it swung its club in a wide arc, smashing half of the stalls in the process. Debris showered Harry and his friends as the club dropped to the tiles, shattering them. The troll blinked, as if surprised that its wild swing had missed. Harry came up with a rudimentary plan.

"Alright, we need to get around it and into the hallway. I'm gonna draw it to this side, then you two sneak around and distract it so I can get around," Harry said, firm tone allowing for no argument. Daphne nodded, drawing her wand and moving towards the sinks.

"Hey, stupid!" Harry shouted at the troll. "Over here! _Glacius!_ " An icicle formed in front of Harry's wand, then launched at the troll. It impacted on the things shoulder, but barely had an effect other than annoying the creature. With a grunt, it turned towards Harry and away from the girls, who began creeping along the wall towards the door. It raised its club again, and brought it flying down towards Harry. Augmenting his reflexes and speed, Harry leaped to the side before casting again, this time with more power behind it. " _Fulgus!_ " A bolt of lightning flashed from Harry's wand tip to the troll's head.

The ugly creature roared in pain and confusion, its eyes becoming unfocused. While this last attack appeared to have some effect, it served to enrage the beast even further. The club swung back and forth in wide motions, destroying the last of the stalls and several sinks, sending water spraying across the room. On the third swing, it came directly at Harry once more. In desperation, Harry sent his magic flowing into the floor. Nearly instantaneously, a barrier of stone shot up from the floor, blocking the swing. Both the troll and the three students stared at it for a moment, at a loss for words.

"Hey! Over here!" Hermione called, brandishing her wand. " _Incendio!_ " The flames had no effect on the troll whatsoever, but succeeded in drawing its attention. With a grunt, it flung its club towards the two girls. A desperate _"Ventus!_ " from Daphne barely managed to divert the club so that it didn't crush them against the wall. Harry dashed around the side of the troll, placing himself firmly in front of his friends.

The troll looked annoyed at their continued efforts to evade him. The unblinking eyes gained a cruel shine, though, as it hefted its club and threw it with great force. For a moment Harry was worried this was it, but the club wasn't directed at him. It impacted on the wall above the entrance to the bathroom. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with sharp cracks and groans, the wall completely collapsed, burying the entryway in a massive pile of rubble. Harry's heart sank.

* * *

The students in the Great Hall were getting restless. At first, the fear of trolls breaking down the doors had kept them quiet, but soon the sound started to increase again. The remaining teachers still stood guard near the entryway, nervously glancing at each other. Tracey and Blaise were trying to push their way towards the teachers, but older students were keeping them back.

"Excuse me, we need to speak to one of the teachers," Blaise said as he tried pushing through the crowd.

"Sorry, kid, Professor Dumbledore wanted the younger students to stay away from the doors. You'll just have to wait," an older Ravenclaw replied.

"You don't understand, my classmate—"

"Look, kid, I'm not gonna tell you again. Get back with your year."

"What's going on here, Davies?" an older Hufflepuff student interrupted. She was fairly tall, and had shockingly pink hair. Blaise thought he spotted a Prefect badge, but was distracting when she addressed him.

"You alright, kid?" she asked him.

"I'm fine, yes, but two of my friends weren't here when they locked the doors," Blaise explained with a glare at the Ravenclaw.

The older girl's face paled. "Come with me," she said. She pushed her way through the crowds, Blaise and Tracey close behind, eventually breaking through the front, and approached Professor Sprout.

"Professor," she began, "this student needs to tell you something."

"Well, Mr. Zabini? Out with it," Sprout said, clearly feeling the stress of the situation.

"Er, well, two of our friends didn't make it to the Great Hall for the feast," explained Blaise. "Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, we haven't seen either of them since Charms."

An expression of worry grew on Sprout's face. "You're sure? They weren't sitting anywhere else at the table?" Blaise and Tracey just nodded. Sprout turned to the doors of the Great Hall. " _Expecto Patronum!_ " The students watched in wonder as silver mist poured from Sprout's wand, eventually coalescing into a badger. Sprout spoke in a hurried tone. "Headmaster, there are at least two students that never arrived to the feast tonight: Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass. Their friends don't know where they are." The badger stayed a moment longer, then turned and dashed through the doors. "Don't worry, they will be just fine," Sprout told them, though it wasn't very convincing. The pink-haired witch put a hand on each of their shoulders, and guided them back into the back of the Hall.

* * *

The first-years screamed as the club swung down at the ground once more. They were showered with chips of tile that were blasted from the ground, scrambling to get as far away from the troll as possible in the cramped bathroom. They tossed all the offensive spells they knew of, but nothing seemed to have any significant effect. They were all beginning to feel exhausted, both from the constant running and the constant spells.

When Hermione stumbled and was nearly caught by the next swing, Harry felt furious. A rumbling filled his ears, and his vision narrowed until he could only see the troll in front of him, pulling its club back for another swing. The anger slowly built up within him, and sparks began to jump between his fingertips. Unknown to him, his eyes began glowing a light blue and a predatory smirk grew over his face. The troll paused in its windup, as if realizing it was messing with something it shouldn't. Then, it shrugged, and brought its club forward in an overhand swing.

Blinding white light filled the room. A massive bolt of lightning left each of Harry's upraised palms, connecting with the metal jutting from the club. For a moment, it looked as if the club would not be denied. But, with one last push, the club vaporized, dust raining down upon the children. The troll blinked, not comprehending what had just happened. This confusion was then replaced by the troll's other standard emotion, rage. It smashed its fists against the floor, bellowing, and launching bits of spittle over Harry.

Harry was barely in control of his actions at this point. The power flowing through his limbs was almost addictive, and he felt as if he could level the entire castle if he so desired. He forced his attention back to the raging troll before him, watching dispassionately as a fist flew at his chest. With clinical precision, Harry jumped up, landing on the mottled forearm of the beast. Faster than it could react, he then leaped to its shoulders. Placing a palm on each side of his head, he began pushing his magic out as fast as he can.

The motions of the troll became more erratic and less controlled, as electricity flowed from Harry's hands into the troll's skull. Its eyes unfocused, then gradually began to roll backwards into its head. As the troll ceased its motions, so too did the magic flowing from Harry's hands. He panted in exhaustion as his momentary strength fled his limbs. It was all he could do to not fall from the thing's shoulders.

Harry looked down, seeing that both Daphne and Hermione were alright, if shaken up. He shot a lopsided grin in their direction, but that soon dropped from his face as he felt motion beneath him.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore's wand was moving as if it were that of a conductor. The motions never ceased, spells flying this way and that as he corralled the four massive trolls into an unused classroom near the exit from the dungeons. Each time one of them attempted to break away down the hallway, he would quickly react, a spell pushing the beast back in line. Just as he was about to begin the final push, a silver blur next to him caught his eye. Knowing that a lapse in concentration while forcing them into the room could prove disastrous, he slowed down his casting for a moment, allowing his fellow teachers to assist as the Patronus spoke.

"Headmaster, there are at least two students that never arrived to the feast tonight: Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass. Their friends don't know where they are," Sprout's voice came from the badger's mouth before it dissolved. Dumbledore paled. At the beginning of the fight, a smaller troll had broken away before he could stop it. He had believed that area of the castle to be abandoned, but if those students were down there…

Magic poured from Dumbledore in fresh waves. Within the span of five seconds, the trolls had been pushed into the room, and the door sealed and warded. Motioning for Flitwick to guard the door and bolster its defenses. Then, he turned and ran down the hallway after the last troll with speed that belied his age. McGonagall and Snape rushed after him, trying their utmost to keep up.

He slid to a stop before a crumbled archway. With a single wave of his hand, the arch reformed as if it had never been damaged. McGonagall gasped, seeing the destruction that was apparent beyond the entryway.

Slowly, with wands raised, the three teachers entered the bathroom. Not a single stall or sink was left in its place, and there, in the center of the room, laid the last troll. Next to its head were two girls, Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass. Relief filled their eyes as they saw the three teachers enter.

"Professors! The troll landed on Harry, and we can't get him out!" Hermione exclaimed.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and the body slowly raised into the air, revealing a small body with black hair where its shoulders had been. He moved the troll to the side of the room, noting that it was merely unconscious, not dead. Snape immediately moved to the boy's side, wand darting back and forth across his motionless body.

"Sir, he has no grievous injuries. Several broken bones in his extremities, and his core is nearly empty, but he should recover with no long term issues," Snape said. Dumbledore sighed in relief.

"Come on, girls, let's get you to the hospital wing," McGonagall said, placing gentle hands on the girls' backs. Snape levitated Harry carefully behind them, and the group began their trek.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Wish I could always update this quick. Please tell me your thoughts on the fight sequence, I'm not sure if I was clear enough. Thanks for reading!**


	29. Chapter 29

The walk to the infirmary was not long, but it felt unending for the two shaken first years. Snape was still levitating Harry's seemingly lifeless body in front of them, and even though he claimed he was fine, it certainly didn't look like it. Daphne sidled over to Hermione.

"Hermione," she whispered, "we can't tell anyone except Madam Pomfrey what happened."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, a scandalized look on her face. "Daphne, they're professors, they need to know what happened! What if they need to know to help Harry?"

"Hermione, the only one who needs to know is Pomfrey, so she can take care of him. Please, almost nobody knows about what he can do and he really doesn't want anyone else to find out," Daphne pleaded.

"Why did he tell you and not me?" Hermione asked, a hurt look on her face.

Daphne looked embarrassed. "I actually found out by accident," she explained. "He really didn't want to explain it to me but I sorta forced it out of him. The point is, he really doesn't want everyone to know about it."

Hermione looked doubtful, but nodded nonetheless. Daphne sighed in relief, happy that Harry could keep his secret a little longer.

* * *

 _He was back in the air, flying over a massive mountain range. He weaved between the peaks, his wings responding to the slightest gust of air to keep him on course. He called out his dominance to the universe, proclaiming his superiority. He began to circle, rising into a thunderstorm, the crashing of thunder filling his ears. This was his element, this was—_

Harry's eyes snapped open. It took him a moment, but he soon recognized the arched ceiling of the hospital wing. Several moments later, his most recent memories flooded back into his head, and he immediately sat up, casting about for Daphne and Hermione. His pulse slowed when he saw both of their forms sleeping in the beds to his side. By the amount of light coming through the windows, it looked to be an hour or two before dawn.

A shadow passed by the window across from him. He groaned as he recognized its form. He stood, walking over to the window, and threw it open. He was instantly set upon by his worried owl, who cuffed him a few times before settling on his shoulder, nuzzling up against his ear.

"Hey girl, did you miss me? I know, I did some stupid stuff again, but I promise I'm alright," he comforted her. "Is that a letter for me?" He untied the string, already knowing who it was from.

 _Dear Harry,  
I'm quite glad to hear that you are alright after your stay in the hospital wing. I've heard that Madam Pomfrey can be quite strict, but she is quite good at what she does. If I were to hazard a guess, I believe that the extreme reaction you had to the _Fulgus _spell is a result of the thunderbird feather in your wand. Since thunderbirds can generate extreme amounts of lightning, I assume it latched on to that and attempted to generate as much of it as possible. As I said when I gave you your wand, earning its loyalty may not be easy.  
I hope your life has been a bit tamer since then, though it seems that trouble loves to follow you around. For Merlin's sake, please be careful.  
Talk to you soon,  
Garrick Ollivander_

Harry had just put the letter away in his pile of clothes when Madam Pomfrey bustled out from her office.

"Mr. Potter, just what do you think you are doing out of bed? Your bones have only just regrown, I will not have you breaking them this quickly. Back in bed, scoot," she said as she dug around in her potions cabinet. "Now, take these two now, and this one when you go to bed tonight," she instructed, handing him three different potions. "And if you even think about getting out of that bed before I've cleared you, you'll be stuck in here for another day."

Harry meekly slid back into his bed, with a "Yes, Madam Pomfrey." She nodded in approval, then returned to her office. Before he could even begin to get back to sleep, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"How're you feeling?" Daphne asked him, her voice slow and quiet. "You had me and Hermione really scared back there."

"I'm alright," he responded, "just tired and sore. How are you feeling?"

"Same as you. And… also a little embarrassed. Me and Hermione combined were still doing less than you were in there. How were you casting so quickly?"

Harry blushed. "I've been practicing a little. At first I was just going to practice my, you know, unique magic, but it kinda turned into just general practice."

Daphne glared lightly at him. "You're practicing extra and not inviting me? Or any of the others?"

"Er… yeah," he said sheepishly. "Um… I'll let you know next time I go?"

"You'd better, Mr. Potter," she replied with a scowl, before her glare slipped and turned into a grin. "And I wanna see what you've been working on in your spare time."

"Deal," Harry smiled, but a frown soon grew on his face. "I suppose all the teachers know about what I did?"

"Actually, no," Daphne smiled. "I managed to convince Hermione to let me do the talking, and I basically said that we all just cast _Fulgus_ again and again until it fell over."

"Thanks, Daphne," Harry responded, glad to still have his secret.

* * *

The trio were finally allowed to rejoin their classmates after lunch, but classes had been cancelled that day so that Ministry employees could safely remove the trolls. As such, much of the school was outside enjoying the last vestiges of warm weather. They met Blaise, Tracey, and Neville out on the shore of the lake, continuing to practice skipping rocks.

"Hey, look who's back!" Tracey called out as she saw them approach. "How are you guys feeling? Madam Pomfrey refused to let us visit, otherwise we would've been there this morning."

"We're all okay, just a little shaken," Harry answered.

"Well, it's not every day you take down a mountain troll, so I guess I can't blame you," Blaise laughed. "How'd you manage it, anyways? All Dumbledore said at breakfast was 'they've been through a difficult experience, so I would appreciate your discretion in the matter.'"

"And is that what you call discrete?" Daphne asked.

Blaise's cheeks gained a rosy hue. "Well, I just kinda figured we weren't included in that instruction…"

The group laughed as Blaise's embarrassment, but eventually they relented, and Daphne told the same abridged version she had told the teachers. Neville and Tracey gaped at them, while Blaise looked on with a slightly skeptical gaze.

"You guys took out a mountain troll… with first year spells?" Blaise asked, clearly not convinced.

"I think it was just the sheer number of spells," Harry cut in easily. "It was probably a good five minutes' worth, and we were all casting pretty much constantly." Blaise looked more satisfied at this, and Harry relaxed. "So who's got the most skips so far?"

* * *

That night, Harry and Daphne snuck out of the common room. They had invited Hermione to join them, but she refused to leave the common room after curfew. Harry promised her that he would explain everything to her in detail that weekend. A few minutes later, Harry and Daphne arrived at the classroom Harry had claimed for his own.

"Alright, snake-boy, let's see what you've got," Daphne demanded with a smile as she settled in one of the seats in the front row.

Harry grinned at the nickname, then turned so he was looking down the length of the classroom. He raised his right hand in the air. Over the course of roughly five seconds, a javelin of ice formed in his hand, about three feet long. Then, enhancing his strength and reflexes, he hurled it across the room, where it shattered against the far wall. Daphne clapped lightly, impressed by his work.

"I can do that with the other spells from defense too, except _Aguamenti_ ," he told her. "I learned how to do this, too."

Harry concentrated, and pushed magic into the floor through his feet. Next to him, a stone spear grew from the floor, where he grasped it and threw it down the room, as he had with the ice one. This one also shattered, but the tip of it managed to embed itself in the wall.

"That's pretty impressive, Harry. Have you worked on any spells from our other classes?"

"Well that last one was basically just Transfiguration, though I still haven't figured out how to change material from one to another. I did manage this with _Wingardium Leviosa_ , though."

Harry transfigured a stone slab from the floor, then lifted it to chest height in his hands. Pouring magic into the stone and giving it a purpose, he then released it. It dropped several inches, then lifted itself back to its previous height. It stayed in place, and when Harry walked around, it followed him.

"Alright, toss a spell at me. Maybe a _Tarantallegra_?" Harry requested.

Daphne stood, aiming at Harry. The block of stone was currently hovering to his right side. " _Tarantallegra!_ "

The slab immediately moved to intercept the spell. Upon impact, the stone wavered, then dropped to the floor. Harry grimaced.

"I haven't been able to figure out how to make it stay up for multiple spells yet," he explained. Daphne, on the other hand, was ecstatic.

"Harry, this is amazing! It's basically a new type of magic, and you're developing it _really_ quickly. I think you should be pretty pleased with what you've accomplished already. Have you done anything with your Parselmagic yet?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't really make much progress with that until I get a snake. So far, I haven't been able to speak Parseltongue unless there's actually a snake in front of me, and I have no idea of where to start when it comes to runes."

Daphne looked pensive. "You might write that guy again, ask him if he can help you get started with Parsel runes. Though it might be best to wait until third year, so you can take a runes class. I can't imagine the rules would be too different between different languages, except maybe the syntax."

Harry nodded. "I figured as much. I just wish I could work on something besides this." A confused look crossed his face. "Daphne, did I tell you about the dreams I had in the hospital wing?" She shook her head, so Harry told her about both.

"They just seem incredibly vivid. Something about them makes me think that they're not _just_ a dream, but I don't know what else they could be."

"You know, Harry, in the magical world, dreams _aren't_ always just dreams. Some people think that it's how magic communicates with us. Others think that dreams are a representation of our magical cores, and can communicate problems or information to us. Really, nobody knows what they mean, but you shouldn't disregard it so soon."

* * *

Later that night, after returning to his dorm, Harry sat down to write a response to Ollivander.

 _Dear Garrick,  
Thanks for your last letter. I swear I'm not looking for trouble, but it really does seem to seek me out. In that line of thought, I need to tell about something that happened earlier this week.  
One of my friends didn't show up to class, so me and another friend went looking for her during dinner. We found her, and were just sitting there talking, when a _troll _came wandering in. I swear, an actual mountain troll. It took a while, but eventually we managed to knock it out.  
I got knocked out again when the troll fell over on me (I promise, Madam Pomfrey fixed me right up), and before I woke up, I had another really vivid dream, really similar to the first one. One of my friends said something about dreams being some sort of connection to our magic, but I wanted to get your thoughts on the matter.  
Anyways, I'd better get to bed, it's pretty late.  
Write you soon,  
Harry Potter_

* * *

 **Author's Note: Potential spoilers ahead, so read with caution: So a reviewer pointed out (thanks, Thracer) that Harry was becoming a bit too OP, and I have to agree. My original plan was for Ollivander to come up with a ritual to mitigate some of Harry's difficulty casting normal magic sometime around fourth or fifth year that would decrease some of his other abilities, but now I'm thinking that I should add some downsides to the ritual he's currently working on, and have that happen at the end of this year. Specifically, I think I want to drop (or at least drastically reduce) his enhancement abilities, and keep his wandless abilities as they are. I would love to hear everyone's thoughts on this, and any other comments or suggestions you have. Thanks for reading!**

 **Author's Note 2: What even is my update schedule?**


	30. Announcement

Hi everyone,

Just thought I would officially announce that Unbreakable is now on hiatus. I decided that I wasn't very happy with how the story was developing, nor with my plans for where it was going in the future. However, I'm not abandoning it. At some point, I will likely rewrite the entire thing and republish it. Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, or reviewed, and I apologize to anyone who still wanted to see where this was going. If you'd still like to follow my writing, please check out my new story, Time and Again. In my opinion, it's better written, and I've fleshed out much more of the plot than I had with Unbreakable. Thanks again!


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